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 Senegal and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 The Trojans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bronski Beat,
Byron Stingily,
Johnny Clarke,
Roy Ayers,
Unwound,
Gang of Four,
Spandau Ballet,
Chris Corsano,
The Gun Club,
Ituana,
Siglo XX,
Man Eating Sloth,
Junior Murvin,
Joey Negro,
Y Pants,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pharoah Sanders,
Blossom Toes,
The Golliwogs,
Public Enemy,
Minutemen,
Nation of Ulysses,
Circle Jerks,
Pantaleimon,
The Misunderstood,
Jerry's Kids,
Sonic Youth,
The Birthday Party,
The Vogues,
Al Stewart,
The Cure,
X-101,
Unrelated Segments,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Suburban Knight,
Silicon Teens,
John Lydon,
Urselle,
The Neon Judgement,
A Certain Ratio,
John Foxx,
Moss Icon,
Rapeman,
Ultravox,
The Gap Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Trumans Water,
Derrick Morgan,
Chrome,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angry Samoans,
Ossler,
Quadrant,
Dawn Penn,
UT,
EPMD,
Soft Machine,
Aswad,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.