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 Tajikistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk 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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
Interpol,
Andrew Hill,
The Gories,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Davy DMX,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
UT,
Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
These Immortal Souls,
Shoche,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quadrant,
Bad Manners,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Schoolly D,
Gong,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scan 7,
the Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Youth Brigade,
X-102,
Johnny Osbourne,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mission of Burma,
Soft Machine,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joe Smooth,
Crispy Ambulance,
10cc,
The Monochrome Set,
The Doors,
Rites of Spring,
Freddie Wadling,
Quantec,
Flash Fearless,
New Age Steppers,
Alice Coltrane,
Erykah Badu,
Simply Red,
The Count Five,
Radiopuhelimet,
Angry Samoans,
Siglo XX,
Roxette,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers,
Gang Starr,
Agent Orange,
The Motions,
Piero Umiliani,
D'Angelo,
Quando Quango,
Dark Day,
Prince Buster,
Godley & Creme,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.