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 Sao Paulo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 E-Dancer to the dance 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Bronski Beat,
Suicide,
Bang On A Can,
Sight & Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Agent Orange,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rekid,
Moebius,
Popol Vuh,
DNA,
Mo-Dettes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gang Starr,
Byron Stingily,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche,
Cheater Slicks,
Thompson Twins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
48th St. Collective,
Infiniti,
Lindisfarne,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fugazi,
Wolf Eyes,
Brand Nubian,
Pantytec,
Black Pus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Outsiders,
Malaria!,
Sonic Youth,
X-101,
Matthew Halsall,
The Evens,
Motorama,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mr. Review,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Smog,
Gil Scott Heron,
Panda Bear,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Inner City,
The Offenders,
B.T. Express,
The Divine Comedy,
Kurtis Blow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Judy Mowatt,
Aural Exciters,
The J.B.'s,
Negative Approach,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.