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 Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Rakim to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Average White Band,
Eurythmics,
Khruangbin,
Rites of Spring,
Warsaw,
Babytalk,
Minny Pops,
Matthew Bourne,
Tom Boy,
Arab on Radar,
The Birthday Party,
the Sonics,
Loose Ends,
The Count Five,
Minor Threat,
Ken Boothe,
The Gories,
Panda Bear,
The Young Rascals,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Slave,
Bronski Beat,
Fatback Band,
Simply Red,
Soul Sonic Force,
Zero Boys,
Ice-T,
The Real Kids,
Suburban Knight,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oneida,
Fear,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roxy Music,
Johnny Osbourne,
ABBA,
Fluxion,
Y Pants,
Nas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sex Pistols,
The Slackers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Cale,
Cal Tjader,
Roy Ayers,
In Retrospect,
Cecil Taylor,
Moebius,
Blossom Toes,
Deadbeat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
E-Dancer,
Funkadelic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brick,
Quando Quango,
Swell Maps,
One Last Wish,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.