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 Grenada and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Monks to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
The Angels of Light,
Oneida,
Theoretical Girls,
Aural Exciters,
The Dirtbombs,
Thee Headcoats,
Swell Maps,
Roxette,
The Standells,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sun Ra,
Jerry's Kids,
Grauzone,
Ponytail,
The Knickerbockers,
Quadrant,
the Sonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ronnie Foster,
Alphaville,
The Vogues,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiohead,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harmonia,
The Index,
The Busters,
The Cramps,
Bootsy Collins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fire Engines,
Jeru the Damaja,
These Immortal Souls,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Gabor Szabo,
Brand Nubian,
Tom Boy,
Man Parrish,
Joe Smooth,
Das Ding,
Excepter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eric Dolphy,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Moody Blues,
Zapp,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joe Finger,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tears for Fears,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.