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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Joe Smooth to the crunk 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
These Immortal Souls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Al Stewart,
The Techniques,
EPMD,
Depeche Mode,
Public Enemy,
Lindisfarne,
Graham Central Station,
Buzzcocks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crash Course in Science,
Trumans Water,
The Fortunes,
OOIOO,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare,
the Slits,
Groovy Waters,
Nirvana,
David Bowie,
Ice-T,
Spoonie Gee,
The Red Krayola,
Underground Resistance,
The Dirtbombs,
Man Parrish,
Yusef Lateef,
Hoover,
Clear Light,
Essential Logic,
Suburban Knight,
Henry Cow,
MDC,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Bananas,
Simply Red,
Sound Behaviour,
Flash Fearless,
Prince Buster,
Freddie Wadling,
Yazoo,
Susan Cadogan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cramps,
Josef K,
Rakim,
Cal Tjader,
John Cale,
The Evens,
Soul II Soul,
T. Rex,
The Black Dice,
Ludus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Todd Terry,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Sherman,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.