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 Delhi.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minnie Riperton to the rock 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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ten City,
The Smiths,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Davy DMX,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Metal Thangz,
Bobby Sherman,
These Immortal Souls,
Nils Olav,
Fugazi,
Funky Four + One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mojo Men,
Los Fastidios,
Organ,
Pussy Galore,
Qualms,
Soft Cell,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yaz,
The Evens,
Massinfluence,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fuzztones,
Outsiders,
T. Rex,
DJ Style,
Arab on Radar,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Move,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
ABBA,
Howard Jones,
Darondo,
Stiv Bators,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rod Modell,
Talk Talk,
The Black Dice,
The Young Rascals,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Henry Cow,
Alice Coltrane,
Niagra,
Lalann,
Joe Finger,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun Ra,
Guru Guru,
Severed Heads,
Model 500,
The Grass Roots,
Simply Red,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.