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 Uganda and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eric Copeland to the funk 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Red Krayola,
Rod Modell,
Oneida,
Derrick Morgan,
Fatback Band,
Metal Thangz,
The Martian,
Nico,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Flag,
Ultra Naté,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boredoms,
Sällskapet,
Crime,
Mantronix,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tim Buckley,
Q65,
Maleditus Sound,
Bang On A Can,
Camberwell Now,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Camouflage,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cowsills,
the Slits,
Rekid,
Loose Ends,
The Misunderstood,
The Searchers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Bauhaus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Blues Magoos,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric Dolphy,
Cecil Taylor,
Ossler,
Michelle Simonal,
the Sonics,
Bobby Womack,
Wolf Eyes,
Can,
Roger Hodgson,
Spoonie Gee,
Grauzone,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Swans,
Supertramp,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Offenders,
Man Parrish,
Hardrive,
ABBA,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.