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 Kuwait and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes 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 Pole to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Alphaville,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Slave,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Searchers,
Carl Craig,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rapeman,
Ludus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wally Richardson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aloha Tigers,
Roger Hodgson,
U.S. Maple,
Youth Brigade,
48th St. Collective,
Skaos,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tears for Fears,
Drexciya,
AZ,
Agent Orange,
Albert Ayler,
Hasil Adkins,
MDC,
Pierre Henry,
Marvin Gaye,
Lower 48,
Fatback Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Infiniti,
cv313,
Heaven 17,
JFA,
Angry Samoans,
Lou Reed,
Derrick May,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cybotron,
the Germs,
The Velvet Underground,
Yusef Lateef,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moebius,
Procol Harum,
Subhumans,
Toni Rubio,
Pussy Galore,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Robert Görl,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.