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 Senegal and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Althea and Donna to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Von Mondo,
Das Ding,
Charles Mingus,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Modern Lovers,
D'Angelo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Don Cherry,
Crooked Eye,
Visage,
Skriet,
Gichy Dan,
the Soft Cell,
The Standells,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang Green,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cramps,
Lou Christie,
Cybotron,
Gang of Four,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cluster,
Cymande,
Crash Course in Science,
Ronnie Foster,
Bill Wells,
Iggy Pop,
The Cure,
Easy Going,
Spoonie Gee,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Blackbyrds,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mandrill,
The Litter,
Nils Olav,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Enemy,
The Martian,
Neu!,
Neil Young,
Japan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arcadia,
Aswad,
T.S.O.L.,
Toni Rubio,
Howard Jones,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Anakelly,
Alison Limerick,
June of 44,
The Pretty Things,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Country Teasers,
Quadrant,
Pole,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.