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 Panama and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wings to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nick Fraelich,
Mad Mike,
Eli Mardock,
Banda Bassotti,
Mark Hollis,
Wasted Youth,
Maurizio,
The Knickerbockers,
Soft Cell,
Cecil Taylor,
Alphaville,
ABBA,
Radiohead,
Sonny Sharrock,
Interpol,
Y Pants,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Five Americans,
Mantronix,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Techniques,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blossom Toes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Offenders,
Index,
The Pop Group,
The United States of America,
Kerrie Biddell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Unrelated Segments,
Groovy Waters,
The Doors,
Tomorrow,
Marvin Gaye,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Johnny Osbourne,
David Axelrod,
The Remains,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skarface,
Marmalade,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang Starr,
Neu!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Suburban Knight,
Model 500,
the Normal,
The Walker Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Motions,
Aloha Tigers,
Wire,
Sandy B,
Supertramp,
Von Mondo,
Average White Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eddi Front,
Stereo Dub,
Echospace,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.