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 Swaziland and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Darondo to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Skarface,
The Barracudas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Knickerbockers,
DNA,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
David Axelrod,
the Normal,
Gang Gang Dance,
Livin' Joy,
Moss Icon,
Chris & Cosey,
The Vogues,
Warren Ellis,
Eurythmics,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Music Machine,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mars,
Soul II Soul,
Dual Sessions,
Eric Copeland,
Goldenarms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Modern Lovers,
The Stooges,
These Immortal Souls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roy Ayers,
Monks,
Yaz,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tears for Fears,
Qualms,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jerry's Kids,
Glenn Branca,
Scott Walker,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bluetip,
Half Japanese,
Jawbox,
Motorama,
Eric Dolphy,
Simply Red,
Monolake,
Amon Düül,
Duran Duran,
Soft Cell,
The Gories,
In Retrospect,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ken Boothe,
Charles Mingus,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Five Americans,
Spandau Ballet,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.