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 Morocco and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Drexciya to the crunk 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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Judy Mowatt,
Cheater Slicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Massinfluence,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott Heron,
Iggy Pop,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Standells,
Pylon,
Amazonics,
Arab on Radar,
The Last Poets,
Flipper,
Graham Central Station,
Harmonia,
Kerri Chandler,
Rekid,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Metal Thangz,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Zeros,
The Seeds,
Little Man,
Henry Cow,
CMW,
Model 500,
Black Sheep,
The Stooges,
Talk Talk,
Jeff Lynne,
Gichy Dan,
Siglo XX,
Max Romeo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Red Krayola,
Aloha Tigers,
Q65,
Yellowson,
UT,
Hasil Adkins,
Deadbeat,
Barbara Tucker,
Tom Boy,
Mr. Review,
Young Marble Giants,
Albert Ayler,
Soft Machine,
Aural Exciters,
The Index,
The Dave Clark Five,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Parry Music,
The Fall,
FM Einheit,
Ohio Players,
Quantec,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.