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 Nepal 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Alice Coltrane to the crunk 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
David Axelrod,
Sun Ra,
The Techniques,
The Velvet Underground,
Marvin Gaye,
Fela Kuti,
Rod Modell,
the Human League,
Metal Thangz,
Kas Product,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dead Boys,
the Germs,
Barry Ungar,
Eddi Front,
Simply Red,
John Foxx,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Neon Judgement,
10cc,
Graham Central Station,
June Days,
Sugar Minott,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Leaves,
The Mojo Men,
The Gun Club,
Motorama,
the Swans,
The Tremeloes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Spoonie Gee,
Marine Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Funkadelic,
Pole,
Von Mondo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pulsallama,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slits,
Soulsonic Force,
Ludus,
Kurtis Blow,
Prince Buster,
Erykah Badu,
the Slits,
Donny Hathaway,
Siglo XX,
Kevin Saunderson,
The J.B.'s,
Isaac Hayes,
The Dirtbombs,
EPMD,
Reagan Youth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tomorrow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arthur Verocai,
Faraquet,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.