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 Uruguay and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scrapy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Fugazi,
Smog,
Todd Terry,
The Angels of Light,
Panda Bear,
Motorama,
Minnie Riperton,
Lyres,
Porter Ricks,
Half Japanese,
Ten City,
Clear Light,
Radio Birdman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Matthew Bourne,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Moby Grape,
Cheater Slicks,
Lightning Bolt,
Camberwell Now,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Starr,
Todd Rundgren,
Crooked Eye,
Harry Pussy,
Cecil Taylor,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sound,
kango's stein massive,
the Normal,
The Black Dice,
Rakim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deadbeat,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Depeche Mode,
Interpol,
Visage,
Eddi Front,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bluetip,
Charles Mingus,
Unwound,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Evens,
Sound Behaviour,
Royal Trux,
Newcleus,
Cameo,
The Fall,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pagans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tubeway Army,
Joe Smooth,
Fela Kuti,
Brand Nubian,
Morten Harket,
Delta 5,
Quadrant,
Faraquet,
Talk Talk,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.