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 Monaco and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Carl Craig to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Liliput,
Deepchord,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Derrick May,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
Rosa Yemen,
Morten Harket,
Robert Hood,
Mo-Dettes,
Essential Logic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roy Ayers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barrington Levy,
Khruangbin,
Ronnie Foster,
Magma,
The Fortunes,
The Victims,
Soul II Soul,
Cluster,
Lyres,
The Tremeloes,
Stiv Bators,
Parry Music,
Panda Bear,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crooked Eye,
Grey Daturas,
Wolf Eyes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brick,
Theoretical Girls,
Todd Terry,
Danielle Patucci,
The Beau Brummels,
The Birthday Party,
Fat Boys,
Gastr Del Sol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jerry's Kids,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Groovy Waters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joyce Sims,
Aswad,
Technova,
The Seeds,
Letta Mbulu,
48th St. Collective,
Sugar Minott,
B.T. Express,
Amon Düül II,
Donald Byrd,
ABBA,
Eurythmics,
Cymande,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.