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 Liechtenstein and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 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 the Slits to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dead Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Robert Hood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Mummies,
Pole,
Joe Smooth,
Nirvana,
Wasted Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Depeche Mode,
Agent Orange,
The Move,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Trojans,
Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suicide,
Franke,
Yaz,
Kenny Larkin,
The Wake,
Jawbox,
Ken Boothe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Pop Group,
Rekid,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang Starr,
Joensuu 1685,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
Neil Young,
Loose Ends,
Morten Harket,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Carl Craig,
Chris Corsano,
Arab on Radar,
Fad Gadget,
ABC,
Ornette Coleman,
Scion,
Delta 5,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joy Division,
X-Ray Spex,
Alphaville,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ludus,
D'Angelo,
The Standells,
DJ Sneak,
The Misunderstood,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.