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 Benin and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Prince Buster to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Desert Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brothers Johnson,
Johnny Clarke,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ronnie Foster,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mars,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bizarre Inc.,
World's Most,
Mantronix,
Clear Light,
Barclay James Harvest,
Metal Thangz,
Rakim,
New Age Steppers,
Supertramp,
Roger Hodgson,
Y Pants,
Kurtis Blow,
Easy Going,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harry Pussy,
Yusef Lateef,
Underground Resistance,
Bill Wells,
Tim Buckley,
The Electric Prunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Porter Ricks,
New York Dolls,
Byron Stingily,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kaleidoscope,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quantec,
Youth Brigade,
Roxette,
Eric Copeland,
The Grass Roots,
The Golliwogs,
Eddi Front,
Stetsasonic,
Inner City,
Angry Samoans,
Excepter,
Frankie Knuckles,
LL Cool J,
Hashim,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Massinfluence,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Invisible,
Crispian St. Peters,
Depeche Mode,
The Remains,
Pulsallama,
MDC,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Red Krayola,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.