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 Congo and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Mad Mike,
the Swans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Althea and Donna,
Pulsallama,
Popol Vuh,
Eurythmics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sandy B,
The Misunderstood,
Letta Mbulu,
The Modern Lovers,
Section 25,
Brass Construction,
The Names,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Don Cherry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Anthony Braxton,
Gichy Dan,
FM Einheit,
The Black Dice,
Stiv Bators,
ABBA,
Jerry's Kids,
The Stooges,
DJ Style,
New York Dolls,
Graham Central Station,
Ultravox,
Cheater Slicks,
One Last Wish,
Ronnie Foster,
Albert Ayler,
Yazoo,
Livin' Joy,
Marmalade,
Connie Case,
Loose Ends,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Litter,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Young Rascals,
The Birthday Party,
Fluxion,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jesper Dahlback,
Morten Harket,
Yusef Lateef,
Steve Hackett,
Kurtis Blow,
Simply Red,
Wasted Youth,
Hoover,
Frankie Knuckles,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harmonia,
John Coltrane,
Nas,
Suicide,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.