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 Cape Verde and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Inner City to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Bluetip,
Inner City,
The Angels of Light,
Harmonia,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ken Boothe,
Barclay James Harvest,
New Order,
The Barracudas,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultravox,
Roy Ayers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mojo Men,
Jandek,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Intrusion,
Ituana,
Groovy Waters,
Nas,
The Moleskins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pantaleimon,
Cluster,
the Swans,
Donald Byrd,
The Invisible,
The Raincoats,
Circle Jerks,
Yaz,
Black Sheep,
Echospace,
Sex Pistols,
Mantronix,
Rekid,
The Associates,
Fela Kuti,
Arthur Verocai,
The Busters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Misunderstood,
The Gap Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
Alphaville,
Lower 48,
Lightning Bolt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Arab on Radar,
Sister Nancy,
Fatback Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Popol Vuh,
Black Moon,
The Remains,
Angry Samoans,
Peter and Kerry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sparks,
Monolake,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.