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 Iraq and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lakeside 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
F. McDonald,
Wasted Youth,
Kenny Larkin,
Thompson Twins,
Technova,
Desert Stars,
The Offenders,
Scratch Acid,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Soft Cell,
Danielle Patucci,
The Grass Roots,
kango's stein massive,
Animal Collective,
Bad Manners,
Lindisfarne,
ABC,
Swell Maps,
Smog,
Pantaleimon,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang Starr,
Ponytail,
Tomorrow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Althea and Donna,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joe Finger,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Warsaw,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Moleskins,
The Trojans,
AZ,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eric Dolphy,
Tears for Fears,
Minor Threat,
Nils Olav,
X-Ray Spex,
The Kinks,
Quando Quango,
Massinfluence,
The Searchers,
Talk Talk,
The Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Selecter,
Livin' Joy,
This Heat,
The Smiths,
Unrelated Segments,
Charles Mingus,
Cal Tjader,
Lou Reed,
Amon Düül,
The Litter,
Frankie Knuckles,
Judy Mowatt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.