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 Egypt and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Electric Prunes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Ultra Naté,
Soul II Soul,
Tom Boy,
The Durutti Column,
Gregory Isaacs,
MDC,
Suicide,
Barclay James Harvest,
EPMD,
Joe Finger,
Wire,
The Smoke,
Television,
Joyce Sims,
Little Man,
Nico,
The Stooges,
Letta Mbulu,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zapp,
Maurizio,
Spandau Ballet,
Ken Boothe,
Nick Fraelich,
Todd Rundgren,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Neon Judgement,
Massinfluence,
U.S. Maple,
The Cramps,
Scion,
Dark Day,
Marmalade,
Boz Scaggs,
Desert Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arab on Radar,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Minutemen,
Grey Daturas,
Silicon Teens,
Lower 48,
UT,
Masters at Work,
Scan 7,
Eve St. Jones,
Radio Birdman,
Eurythmics,
Spoonie Gee,
Kaleidoscope,
The Grass Roots,
Clear Light,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Bauhaus,
Funkadelic,
Motorama,
The Selecter,
Cal Tjader,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.