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 Kenya and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lungfish to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Max Romeo,
Albert Ayler,
Young Marble Giants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cybotron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeru the Damaja,
Slave,
Ken Boothe,
Agitation Free,
X-Ray Spex,
Joe Smooth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Michelle Simonal,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radio Birdman,
Subhumans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
Graham Central Station,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Bourne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonic Youth,
Country Teasers,
Chris Corsano,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Remains,
The Monochrome Set,
Tim Buckley,
Rites of Spring,
Bauhaus,
Lower 48,
The Stooges,
Bad Manners,
Swell Maps,
Jacob Miller,
The Velvet Underground,
Blossom Toes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sound Behaviour,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
June Days,
Eurythmics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Human League,
New Age Steppers,
Sun Ra,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cramps,
Livin' Joy,
the Association,
Althea and Donna,
Ituana,
Lindisfarne,
Inner City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.