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 Barbados and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 David Axelrod to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Visage,
Sex Pistols,
Judy Mowatt,
The Kinks,
The Leaves,
Skaos,
Barry Ungar,
Faraquet,
Groovy Waters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Slick Rick,
Yaz,
Susan Cadogan,
The Grass Roots,
Junior Murvin,
Neil Young,
Moss Icon,
The Neon Judgement,
Jacques Brel,
Basic Channel,
Scratch Acid,
The Raincoats,
Crooked Eye,
the Association,
Theoretical Girls,
The Smoke,
the Fania All-Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Man Parrish,
The Blues Magoos,
Chris Corsano,
Eric Copeland,
Organ,
D'Angelo,
a-ha,
Panda Bear,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Audionom,
Shoche,
Procol Harum,
Amazonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Mandrill,
Inner City,
The Wake,
The Offenders,
Jacob Miller,
Chrome,
The Happenings,
T. Rex,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minny Pops,
The Toasters,
Davy DMX,
Rotary Connection,
Bang On A Can,
World's Most,
DJ Sneak,
Bizarre Inc.,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.