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 Botswana and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the funk 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Jacques Brel,
Country Teasers,
Rites of Spring,
The Moody Blues,
Absolute Body Control,
Fatback Band,
DNA,
Procol Harum,
Mo-Dettes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Radiopuhelimet,
Monks,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Neon Judgement,
Andrew Hill,
Organ,
Crooked Eye,
The Durutti Column,
Lakeside,
Gastr Del Sol,
Charles Mingus,
The American Breed,
Leonard Cohen,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeru the Damaja,
Swell Maps,
The Fall,
Babytalk,
Intrusion,
Yaz,
Grauzone,
The Litter,
The Music Machine,
Brick,
The Buckinghams,
The New Christs,
Funkadelic,
Rapeman,
Nick Fraelich,
Henry Cow,
Unwound,
Donny Hathaway,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Raincoats,
KRS-One,
The Wake,
Scion,
The Mummies,
Ludus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roy Ayers,
Dennis Brown,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
8 Eyed Spy,
Audionom,
Janne Schatter,
Delta 5,
The Blackbyrds,
June of 44,
Chrome,
Derrick Morgan,
Anthony Braxton,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.