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 Dominican Republic and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Youth Brigade to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Selecter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minutemen,
Fat Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joe Smooth,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Moody Blues,
The Cramps,
Television,
Black Bananas,
The Barracudas,
Porter Ricks,
Babytalk,
Motorama,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Divine Comedy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fuzztones,
Nirvana,
Groovy Waters,
The Mummies,
Make Up,
Johnny Clarke,
The Young Rascals,
Fela Kuti,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Swell Maps,
Bob Dylan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
B.T. Express,
Mark Hollis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thee Headcoats,
FM Einheit,
Bizarre Inc.,
Slick Rick,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Loose Ends,
Severed Heads,
Robert Wyatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Connie Case,
DJ Style,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
F. McDonald,
Slave,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Neu!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mr. Review,
The Modern Lovers,
Metal Thangz,
Wally Richardson,
Malaria!,
The Monks,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.