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 Fiji and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 808 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the dance 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Camberwell Now,
The Durutti Column,
Pantytec,
The Young Rascals,
Black Moon,
Aural Exciters,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Görl,
Rakim,
Half Japanese,
The Cure,
The Leaves,
Tres Demented,
Al Stewart,
Marc Almond,
The Monochrome Set,
Nick Fraelich,
Goldenarms,
Gang Starr,
Bauhaus,
Q and Not U,
The Sonics,
Dark Day,
David Bowie,
The Smoke,
Jandek,
One Last Wish,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Neon Judgement,
Pulsallama,
Pussy Galore,
Theoretical Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
KRS-One,
Dorothy Ashby,
Quantec,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skarface,
Lower 48,
Roxette,
The Gories,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Electric Prunes,
Fugazi,
Anthony Braxton,
Kenny Larkin,
Brass Construction,
Suburban Knight,
The Slits,
Mark Hollis,
Desert Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gap Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alice Coltrane,
F. McDonald,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.