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 Cuba and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kool Moe Dee to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Schoolly D,
The Toasters,
Marine Girls,
Procol Harum,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Slave,
The Vogues,
Lindisfarne,
Slick Rick,
The Offenders,
The Real Kids,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
June Days,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Clarke,
Sparks,
Absolute Body Control,
OOIOO,
Marcia Griffiths,
Anthony Braxton,
Malaria!,
The Dead C,
The Sound,
Index,
Porter Ricks,
Ossler,
Marmalade,
The Birthday Party,
Lalann,
Duran Duran,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wasted Youth,
Agitation Free,
Tres Demented,
Sun Ra,
The Index,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Quantec,
Qualms,
The Evens,
Skaos,
the Bar-Kays,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Reuben Wilson,
Hashim,
Faraquet,
MC5,
CMW,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sex Pistols,
Warsaw,
AZ,
Arthur Verocai,
Pagans,
Nik Kershaw,
Make Up,
Surgeon,
Youth Brigade,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.