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 Peru and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Q65 to the rock 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
The Saints,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Junior Murvin,
The Index,
Suburban Knight,
Urselle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ohio Players,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Star Department,
Fort Wilson Riot,
UT,
Make Up,
The Offenders,
The Names,
Sister Nancy,
Pylon,
Pantytec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Darondo,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Coltrane,
Unrelated Segments,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Hood,
Bush Tetras,
ABBA,
Jeff Lynne,
Alice Coltrane,
10cc,
Circle Jerks,
Moss Icon,
Ronnie Foster,
Jerry's Kids,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marmalade,
The Knickerbockers,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blossom Toes,
X-Ray Spex,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Green,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mary Jane Girls,
Warren Ellis,
Yellowson,
The Grass Roots,
Marc Almond,
Steve Hackett,
Alphaville,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sight & Sound,
Niagra,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.