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 Ivory Coast and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 The Moleskins to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Michelle Simonal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dave Gahan,
Sandy B,
The Toasters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brick,
Lakeside,
Josef K,
Half Japanese,
Thee Headcoats,
Lower 48,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott Heron,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Durutti Column,
Silicon Teens,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pantaleimon,
Jeff Mills,
CMW,
Los Fastidios,
Dorothy Ashby,
Absolute Body Control,
The Misunderstood,
Radiohead,
Scion,
Eve St. Jones,
Man Eating Sloth,
Reagan Youth,
Robert Hood,
Leonard Cohen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Matthew Halsall,
The Divine Comedy,
Skriet,
Pere Ubu,
Hashim,
Danielle Patucci,
Agent Orange,
Second Layer,
Swell Maps,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Main Source,
Donald Byrd,
Unrelated Segments,
Rosa Yemen,
Oneida,
Ronan,
Essential Logic,
Swans,
The Blues Magoos,
Niagra,
Idris Muhammad,
Joey Negro,
These Immortal Souls,
Mark Hollis,
Arab on Radar,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.