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 Guyana and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the grime 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Ultravox,
Derrick Morgan,
Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dead Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Moss Icon,
Erasure,
B.T. Express,
Lungfish,
Kurtis Blow,
Country Teasers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Shoche,
The Invisible,
The Beau Brummels,
John Holt,
Glenn Branca,
Talk Talk,
Nirvana,
Darondo,
Franke,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Martian,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brass Construction,
Reuben Wilson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Underground Resistance,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Techniques,
Andrew Hill,
L. Decosne,
Malaria!,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jeff Mills,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wally Richardson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Reed,
Tim Buckley,
Public Enemy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
JFA,
Lyres,
Jawbox,
Bobby Byrd,
Todd Rundgren,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mission of Burma,
The Wake,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Womack,
Don Cherry,
Bad Manners,
The Five Americans,
DJ Style,
The Angels of Light,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.