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 Sweden and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Amazonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Letta Mbulu,
Barclay James Harvest,
Whodini,
Lindisfarne,
Country Teasers,
Scion,
Chris & Cosey,
Mad Mike,
Josef K,
Marmalade,
The Names,
The Star Department,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cecil Taylor,
Soft Machine,
Supertramp,
Interpol,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fela Kuti,
Thompson Twins,
KRS-One,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Mills,
DJ Style,
Harry Pussy,
Hasil Adkins,
Adolescents,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Toni Rubio,
Ken Boothe,
The Doors,
World's Most,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
One Last Wish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Spandau Ballet,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arab on Radar,
Lower 48,
Parry Music,
Black Bananas,
The Happenings,
Con Funk Shun,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Delta 5,
Lucky Dragons,
Dave Gahan,
Anthony Braxton,
Massinfluence,
Icehouse,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Womack,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.