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 Cuba and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ronan to the electroclash 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
Peter & Gordon,
Darondo,
Graham Central Station,
Derrick Morgan,
48th St. Collective,
Henry Cow,
Aaron Thompson,
Moebius,
Siglo XX,
8 Eyed Spy,
Avey Tare,
Bad Manners,
Donald Byrd,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott Heron,
Michelle Simonal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mission of Burma,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fela Kuti,
Glenn Branca,
Piero Umiliani,
Tim Buckley,
Desert Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Sam Rivers,
The Durutti Column,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Make Up,
Gang Green,
Cameo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Divine Comedy,
Joensuu 1685,
Blancmange,
Jacques Brel,
Girls At Our Best!,
Todd Terry,
Oblivians,
Tears for Fears,
Rekid,
Minnie Riperton,
Q and Not U,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blossom Toes,
Hardrive,
The Dirtbombs,
Janne Schatter,
Inner City,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gun Club,
Rapeman,
FM Einheit,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.