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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ 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 Agitation Free 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Heaven 17,
The Offenders,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Max Romeo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Adolescents,
Michelle Simonal,
The Divine Comedy,
Hoover,
The Residents,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dual Sessions,
Desert Stars,
The Grass Roots,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Patti Smith,
the Sonics,
The Names,
Mr. Review,
Dennis Brown,
Slick Rick,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Coltrane,
Neil Young,
Ludus,
Sandy B,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sound,
Alphaville,
Donny Hathaway,
Brass Construction,
Lyres,
Letta Mbulu,
U.S. Maple,
The Human League,
Youth Brigade,
Circle Jerks,
Flash Fearless,
Kerri Chandler,
Interpol,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
New Age Steppers,
Liliput,
La Düsseldorf,
The Tremeloes,
Schoolly D,
Icehouse,
The Selecter,
Wolf Eyes,
Gabor Szabo,
the Fania All-Stars,
MDC,
Joy Division,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Joe Finger,
Black Flag,
Thee Headcoats,
The Beau Brummels,
Warsaw,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.