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 Nigeria and from Madrid.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Move to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Japan,
Bobby Womack,
The Martian,
Absolute Body Control,
Sarah Menescal,
Sällskapet,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Skatalites,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Sherman,
Wasted Youth,
Black Pus,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Angels of Light,
Black Moon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mummies,
Piero Umiliani,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Germs,
Derrick Morgan,
Soul II Soul,
Rosa Yemen,
the Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Simply Red,
One Last Wish,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Reagan Youth,
The Smiths,
The Saints,
Outsiders,
Public Enemy,
The Durutti Column,
Reuben Wilson,
Lalann,
Y Pants,
The Evens,
Big Daddy Kane,
Don Cherry,
Barclay James Harvest,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric Copeland,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crispy Ambulance,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Busters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mars,
K-Klass,
China Crisis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacques Brel,
Michelle Simonal,
Intrusion,
Joe Smooth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.