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 South Sudan and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 John Coltrane to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Bronski Beat,
Gabor Szabo,
The United States of America,
Jacques Brel,
The Stooges,
Trumans Water,
Max Romeo,
Skarface,
Yusef Lateef,
Urselle,
B.T. Express,
Main Source,
Erasure,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Maurizio,
Schoolly D,
Essential Logic,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sight & Sound,
the Association,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cal Tjader,
Robert Hood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Yaz,
Franke,
Peter and Kerry,
Subhumans,
Underground Resistance,
Absolute Body Control,
China Crisis,
Nils Olav,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Victims,
The Fire Engines,
a-ha,
Blake Baxter,
Marmalade,
Hashim,
Todd Terry,
Mad Mike,
The Busters,
Mandrill,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Theoretical Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bauhaus,
OOIOO,
Rosa Yemen,
Rapeman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crooked Eye,
Gong,
Joyce Sims,
The Knickerbockers,
Rufus Thomas,
Alphaville,
the Bar-Kays,
Lower 48,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.