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 Kazakhstan 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Buzzcocks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wolf Eyes,
The Star Department,
Joy Division,
The Tremeloes,
Radio Birdman,
The Monochrome Set,
Byron Stingily,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
Yellowson,
The Sound,
Radiopuhelimet,
New York Dolls,
Bill Wells,
Archie Shepp,
Sight & Sound,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nirvana,
FM Einheit,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skarface,
Girls At Our Best!,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Names,
Porter Ricks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bad Manners,
Jeru the Damaja,
Swell Maps,
Eurythmics,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Erasure,
Essential Logic,
Technova,
The Birthday Party,
Scrapy,
Gang Green,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Oblivians,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
David Bowie,
The Fall,
Oneida,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Letta Mbulu,
Minutemen,
Underground Resistance,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Amazonics,
Robert Hood,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Monolake,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.