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 Mauritius and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Sheep,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radio Birdman,
Reuben Wilson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Misunderstood,
Thee Headcoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Franke,
Freddie Wadling,
Funky Four + One,
Rakim,
Scion,
Slick Rick,
ABC,
Marvin Gaye,
Siglo XX,
Youth Brigade,
The Grass Roots,
Livin' Joy,
Piero Umiliani,
Pere Ubu,
Ituana,
Tommy Roe,
Subhumans,
Excepter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Slits,
Shoche,
Swell Maps,
Erasure,
Brand Nubian,
Patti Smith,
Surgeon,
This Heat,
Big Daddy Kane,
Simply Red,
Crash Course in Science,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camberwell Now,
Godley & Creme,
The Dirtbombs,
Ice-T,
T.S.O.L.,
Inner City,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sex Pistols,
48th St. Collective,
PIL,
the Fania All-Stars,
Trumans Water,
Bootsy Collins,
Vladislav Delay,
Darondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joey Negro,
Intrusion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.