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 South Sudan 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Arthur Verocai to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Public Enemy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crispian St. Peters,
Visage,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aloha Tigers,
Maleditus Sound,
Stereo Dub,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ronnie Foster,
the Bar-Kays,
The Offenders,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dave Gahan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mummies,
Joey Negro,
Inner City,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Wake,
Malaria!,
Eddi Front,
Soft Machine,
Judy Mowatt,
Eve St. Jones,
Liliput,
MDC,
Sister Nancy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yusef Lateef,
Can,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Bowie,
The Kinks,
D'Angelo,
Technova,
Bill Near,
Talk Talk,
Gang of Four,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Evens,
Patti Smith,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Raincoats,
The Fire Engines,
The Smiths,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Neu!,
Max Romeo,
Television,
Slave,
Funky Four + One,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.