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 Gambia and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Tubeway Army to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Echospace,
KRS-One,
The Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
Lyres,
Au Pairs,
Terry Callier,
Curtis Mayfield,
T. Rex,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Judy Mowatt,
The Smiths,
The Red Krayola,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultravox,
Drexciya,
John Coltrane,
Pantaleimon,
The Raincoats,
Q and Not U,
Anakelly,
Rod Modell,
The Golliwogs,
Erasure,
Scion,
Sixth Finger,
Electric Prunes,
OOIOO,
The Music Machine,
Lower 48,
The Gories,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Laurel Aitken,
Can,
Black Moon,
Tim Buckley,
Connie Case,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Michelle Simonal,
The Cure,
Reuben Wilson,
Heaven 17,
Cal Tjader,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barrington Levy,
Joey Negro,
Procol Harum,
Warren Ellis,
Blancmange,
E-Dancer,
Scratch Acid,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nico,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Modern Lovers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Saccharine Trust,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rapeman,
Sandy B,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.