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 Peru 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 E-Dancer to the rap 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Arthur Verocai,
Zapp,
Young Marble Giants,
Tommy Roe,
Thee Headcoats,
Jacob Miller,
Simply Red,
Erykah Badu,
Minnie Riperton,
Pulsallama,
The Angels of Light,
Supertramp,
10cc,
Skarface,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Pus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Youth Brigade,
Surgeon,
Robert Hood,
Stockholm Monsters,
DJ Style,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Amazonics,
The Residents,
Henry Cow,
Depeche Mode,
Lalann,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Swans,
The Searchers,
Johnny Clarke,
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
Intrusion,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Laurel Aitken,
Boz Scaggs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sixth Finger,
This Heat,
PIL,
Ituana,
Minny Pops,
The Moleskins,
Ossler,
Royal Trux,
Mad Mike,
The Motions,
EPMD,
Soft Machine,
The Music Machine,
Gerry Rafferty,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Evens,
La Düsseldorf,
Mr. Review,
Kerri Chandler,
Sex Pistols,
Siglo XX,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.