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 Ivory Coast 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Oneida to the jazz 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Girls At Our Best!,
Youth Brigade,
Angry Samoans,
Blossom Toes,
X-102,
Henry Cow,
The Smoke,
The Stooges,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Bill Wells,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Parry Music,
The Martian,
Funky Four + One,
Harmonia,
Fort Wilson Riot,
L. Decosne,
Graham Central Station,
Popol Vuh,
Section 25,
The Last Poets,
Rekid,
Stereo Dub,
Bad Manners,
The Standells,
Anakelly,
Tres Demented,
Frankie Knuckles,
Amazonics,
Roy Ayers,
Alphaville,
Thompson Twins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Simply Red,
Wolf Eyes,
Mad Mike,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nils Olav,
Minor Threat,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Toni Rubio,
The Fortunes,
Mr. Review,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Sonics,
Barry Ungar,
Kenny Larkin,
Rakim,
Intrusion,
Trumans Water,
Mantronix,
Davy DMX,
Darondo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang Starr,
The Searchers,
The Monochrome Set,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.