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 Jamaica and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Happenings to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kerrie Biddell,
JFA,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stetsasonic,
Parry Music,
Amazonics,
Rapeman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crime,
Make Up,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Con Funk Shun,
Shoche,
Inner City,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
MC5,
Khruangbin,
Magma,
Faraquet,
Yellowson,
Eddi Front,
Thee Headcoats,
Judy Mowatt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Cale,
The Knickerbockers,
Mo-Dettes,
Guru Guru,
Michelle Simonal,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Anakelly,
Los Fastidios,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ituana,
a-ha,
Main Source,
Letta Mbulu,
Marmalade,
Adolescents,
the Soft Cell,
the Fania All-Stars,
Surgeon,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Birthday Party,
AZ,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Gang Dance,
Skaos,
The Grass Roots,
Ultra Naté,
The Divine Comedy,
Electric Prunes,
Essential Logic,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.