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 Botswana and from Bremen.
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 Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Blossom Toes to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Von Mondo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Zapp,
48th St. Collective,
Idris Muhammad,
the Soft Cell,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang Green,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sun City Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Albert Ayler,
Magma,
Jacques Brel,
The New Christs,
The Angels of Light,
Banda Bassotti,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gabor Szabo,
Young Marble Giants,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
ABC,
The Cure,
Letta Mbulu,
Bush Tetras,
Pantaleimon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Symarip,
The Pretty Things,
Pierre Henry,
Zero Boys,
New York Dolls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Matthew Bourne,
X-102,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jawbox,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Black Bananas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Blake Baxter,
Heaven 17,
Gregory Isaacs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dave Gahan,
Half Japanese,
Public Image Ltd.,
This Heat,
Ralphi Rosario,
Johnny Clarke,
Yazoo,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.