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 Chile and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eve St. Jones to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Japan,
Iggy Pop,
Crooked Eye,
Moby Grape,
Smog,
Derrick Morgan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
48th St. Collective,
Siglo XX,
James White and The Blacks,
Cluster,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dead C,
Shoche,
The Busters,
the Bar-Kays,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Letta Mbulu,
Fad Gadget,
Parry Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharoah Sanders,
Essential Logic,
Silicon Teens,
The Grass Roots,
The Standells,
Lalann,
Schoolly D,
Kenny Larkin,
Harmonia,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
World's Most,
Amon Düül II,
Howard Jones,
Marvin Gaye,
Dark Day,
OOIOO,
Nils Olav,
the Germs,
Sister Nancy,
The Slackers,
Joe Finger,
Tubeway Army,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hasil Adkins,
Kaleidoscope,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Index,
Visage,
cv313,
Sex Pistols,
The Tremeloes,
The Gun Club,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.