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 Tonga and from Bremen.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kevin Saunderson to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hoover,
The Fortunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Offenders,
The Sonics,
Rites of Spring,
Cal Tjader,
Malaria!,
Connie Case,
Ronnie Foster,
The Human League,
Joyce Sims,
Stiv Bators,
Johnny Clarke,
Danielle Patucci,
The Durutti Column,
Visage,
Simply Red,
Lalann,
Blancmange,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Alarm Clocks,
Faraquet,
Eric Dolphy,
Inner City,
kango's stein massive,
John Lydon,
Moebius,
Eurythmics,
Black Sheep,
Howard Jones,
These Immortal Souls,
The Grass Roots,
KRS-One,
The Busters,
The Skatalites,
Mandrill,
Minnie Riperton,
ABC,
The Selecter,
June of 44,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DNA,
D'Angelo,
Alphaville,
Iggy Pop,
Duran Duran,
Leonard Cohen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Liliput,
The Gap Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marmalade,
Cybotron,
A Certain Ratio,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.