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 Burkina and from Halifax.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The New Christs to the techno 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
The Fortunes,
Skriet,
UT,
Jimmy McGriff,
Archie Shepp,
Funky Four + One,
The Associates,
Public Image Ltd.,
Desert Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
The Remains,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Unwound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bang On A Can,
James White and The Blacks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Camberwell Now,
Ossler,
The United States of America,
Funkadelic,
Joy Division,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Toasters,
Boredoms,
Marmalade,
Harmonia,
Marshall Jefferson,
One Last Wish,
Arcadia,
Pole,
R.M.O.,
Erykah Badu,
cv313,
Blake Baxter,
Pet Shop Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dead C,
Livin' Joy,
The Fugs,
The Grass Roots,
Delta 5,
Soul II Soul,
Sixth Finger,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Motions,
The Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minutemen,
A Certain Ratio,
Brass Construction,
Pussy Galore,
Ornette Coleman,
Lungfish,
Sister Nancy,
June of 44,
Banda Bassotti,
Wolf Eyes,
Donald Byrd,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.