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 Comoros and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the grunge 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Electric Prunes,
The Gap Band,
Colin Newman,
Minutemen,
The Move,
Prince Buster,
Bauhaus,
Pole,
Soft Cell,
Magma,
Groovy Waters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Godley & Creme,
Piero Umiliani,
Gichy Dan,
Joy Division,
Be Bop Deluxe,
E-Dancer,
Stereo Dub,
Roger Hodgson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Erasure,
The Golliwogs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quadrant,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Kinks,
Rakim,
Morten Harket,
Pylon,
Letta Mbulu,
The Birthday Party,
Tears for Fears,
Maurizio,
Alice Coltrane,
Oblivians,
R.M.O.,
The Last Poets,
Rapeman,
Brothers Johnson,
Soulsonic Force,
Talk Talk,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
Funky Four + One,
Ultra Naté,
Freddie Wadling,
Cal Tjader,
John Holt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The New Christs,
Mission of Burma,
Saccharine Trust,
Visage,
Section 25,
The Pop Group,
Flash Fearless,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.