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 Albania and from Mexico City.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Con Funk Shun to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
The Slits,
AZ,
Graham Central Station,
Symarip,
Oneida,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pierre Henry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fortunes,
Black Sheep,
Cal Tjader,
Stetsasonic,
Radiohead,
Stereo Dub,
Skriet,
Dead Boys,
Excepter,
the Association,
DJ Style,
Peter and Kerry,
Sound Behaviour,
Bob Dylan,
The Wake,
Smog,
Donny Hathaway,
Moby Grape,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Little Man,
Minny Pops,
B.T. Express,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Q and Not U,
Newcleus,
Ten City,
Slick Rick,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Stooges,
The Gladiators,
Aural Exciters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Bananas,
Liliput,
Bill Wells,
Susan Cadogan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cymande,
T. Rex,
Cameo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Modern Lovers,
Barbara Tucker,
Chrome,
The Flesh Eaters,
Junior Murvin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sarah Menescal,
The Electric Prunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gories,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.