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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Au Pairs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bluetip,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Index,
Stiv Bators,
Charles Mingus,
Silicon Teens,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Blackbyrds,
Lakeside,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Porter Ricks,
Aswad,
The Electric Prunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Todd Rundgren,
Moss Icon,
The Martian,
These Immortal Souls,
Barrington Levy,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
B.T. Express,
FM Einheit,
Kevin Saunderson,
Excepter,
Symarip,
Lalann,
The J.B.'s,
Byron Stingily,
Thompson Twins,
Smog,
Banda Bassotti,
Arab on Radar,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Model 500,
Thee Headcoats,
Arcadia,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Shadows of Knight,
Iggy Pop,
Minor Threat,
China Crisis,
Funky Four + One,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Searchers,
Donny Hathaway,
Bush Tetras,
The Pretty Things,
The Vogues,
The Invisible,
Oneida,
Scion,
K-Klass,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.