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 Nepal and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum 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 Fela Kuti to the crunk 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Thee Headcoats,
Janne Schatter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bluetip,
New York Dolls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Association,
The Dirtbombs,
Aloha Tigers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sandy B,
Black Bananas,
The Trojans,
Bob Dylan,
Section 25,
Robert Hood,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fad Gadget,
Lakeside,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Boz Scaggs,
Mission of Burma,
Steve Hackett,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rites of Spring,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Velvet Underground,
The Smoke,
Banda Bassotti,
Quadrant,
Little Man,
Minny Pops,
Don Cherry,
Agitation Free,
Ultra Naté,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eve St. Jones,
Ossler,
Juan Atkins,
Nick Fraelich,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suburban Knight,
The Moleskins,
Toni Rubio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jimmy McGriff,
48th St. Collective,
Surgeon,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Names,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
KRS-One,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Grass Roots,
The Knickerbockers,
Neu!,
Andrew Hill,
Mo-Dettes,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.