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 Ivory Coast and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
The Wake,
Essential Logic,
DJ Style,
Q65,
Technova,
Erykah Badu,
Ten City,
Johnny Clarke,
Davy DMX,
Letta Mbulu,
Intrusion,
Hoover,
Jeru the Damaja,
LL Cool J,
The New Christs,
Aural Exciters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cramps,
Flipper,
Banda Bassotti,
Little Man,
Thompson Twins,
Graham Central Station,
The Gun Club,
Crash Course in Science,
Vladislav Delay,
Scion,
Sonic Youth,
Arthur Verocai,
Jacques Brel,
The Dave Clark Five,
Infiniti,
The Gladiators,
Danielle Patucci,
Sex Pistols,
the Association,
Bang On A Can,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Franke,
Soulsonic Force,
The Smoke,
Q and Not U,
Unwound,
Wally Richardson,
Cecil Taylor,
Slick Rick,
The Cure,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fugs,
Ultravox,
Kerri Chandler,
Country Teasers,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.