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 Taiwan and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 Big Daddy Kane to the punk 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
MC5,
The Martian,
Ultra Naté,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
kango's stein massive,
Mantronix,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Absolute Body Control,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gastr Del Sol,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tres Demented,
Kaleidoscope,
Rod Modell,
Dawn Penn,
Monks,
Mad Mike,
Index,
Moebius,
F. McDonald,
New Age Steppers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crooked Eye,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Coltrane,
Pylon,
Public Enemy,
Dave Gahan,
Andrew Hill,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Barrington Levy,
The Stooges,
Arthur Verocai,
Maurizio,
Henry Cow,
Sam Rivers,
Brand Nubian,
Theoretical Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Silicon Teens,
New York Dolls,
Porter Ricks,
David McCallum,
Ponytail,
Boredoms,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Todd Terry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mark Hollis,
The Happenings,
These Immortal Souls,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.