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 Uganda and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Nick Fraelich to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
The American Breed,
Bad Manners,
Skarface,
Outsiders,
Gang Gang Dance,
Infiniti,
Desert Stars,
Prince Buster,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Litter,
Bronski Beat,
Joe Smooth,
Livin' Joy,
The Raincoats,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kenny Larkin,
Alice Coltrane,
Slick Rick,
The Knickerbockers,
Japan,
Q and Not U,
Avey Tare,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sonics,
Monolake,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lucky Dragons,
Jeff Mills,
The Slackers,
Alphaville,
The Five Americans,
The Durutti Column,
Drexciya,
Eli Mardock,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roxy Music,
Bang On A Can,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aswad,
Mr. Review,
Jawbox,
Subhumans,
Nils Olav,
Freddie Wadling,
Wally Richardson,
Scott Walker,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Heaven 17,
The Grass Roots,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yusef Lateef,
Bob Dylan,
Ossler,
Gang of Four,
Ronnie Foster,
Yazoo,
Flash Fearless,
Mad Mike,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bill Wells,
Little Man,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.