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 Japan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tom Boy,
The Buckinghams,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scientists,
Bad Manners,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Womack,
Wally Richardson,
Pere Ubu,
Fatback Band,
Iggy Pop,
The American Breed,
One Last Wish,
Pylon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stereo Dub,
X-101,
FM Einheit,
Man Eating Sloth,
Q and Not U,
The Gladiators,
the Association,
OOIOO,
Bootsy Collins,
Brick,
48th St. Collective,
Make Up,
The Happenings,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sandy B,
Procol Harum,
EPMD,
Delta 5,
K-Klass,
Pulsallama,
Absolute Body Control,
ABBA,
Faraquet,
The Move,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hot Snakes,
The Sound,
Junior Murvin,
Alison Limerick,
The Alarm Clocks,
Camberwell Now,
The Neon Judgement,
Bill Wells,
Supertramp,
The Stooges,
Idris Muhammad,
Metal Thangz,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Moody Blues,
Rapeman,
Unwound,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.