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 Somalia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gang Gang Dance 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
The Real Kids,
Slave,
Pussy Galore,
The Durutti Column,
Maurizio,
Glenn Branca,
Public Enemy,
The Young Rascals,
The Wake,
B.T. Express,
The Knickerbockers,
Aural Exciters,
Thee Headcoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cecil Taylor,
R.M.O.,
Vladislav Delay,
Gang Starr,
Eric Copeland,
Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
Cal Tjader,
Smog,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Reagan Youth,
The Moody Blues,
The Fortunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Audionom,
PIL,
Babytalk,
Al Stewart,
Interpol,
Lou Christie,
Suburban Knight,
The Residents,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jacques Brel,
Scion,
Ohio Players,
Quantec,
The Busters,
Livin' Joy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nick Fraelich,
Khruangbin,
One Last Wish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scan 7,
Sandy B,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yazoo,
Little Man,
Depeche Mode,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Wings,
The J.B.'s,
Soft Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Tomorrow,
Loose Ends,
Colin Newman,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.