Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ghana and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Dave Gahan to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pierre Henry,
Terry Callier,
The Index,
The Misunderstood,
Andrew Hill,
Jacob Miller,
Moebius,
Steve Hackett,
Bang On A Can,
The Moleskins,
Magazine,
The Residents,
Faraquet,
U.S. Maple,
Colin Newman,
the Slits,
Chris & Cosey,
The Selecter,
Ronan,
The Gun Club,
Scott Walker,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Con Funk Shun,
Hot Snakes,
Barry Ungar,
Young Marble Giants,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Public Enemy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Robert Hood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Wake,
Clear Light,
The Golliwogs,
Cybotron,
the Swans,
Ken Boothe,
Au Pairs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Silicon Teens,
Swell Maps,
48th St. Collective,
Dual Sessions,
Grey Daturas,
Funkadelic,
The Human League,
Cameo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Carl Craig,
Moss Icon,
the Association,
Massinfluence,
David Axelrod,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deepchord,
DNA,
Khruangbin,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alton Ellis,
The Victims,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.