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 Armenia and from Accra.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brand Nubian to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Sparks,
Bronski Beat,
K-Klass,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barbara Tucker,
The Skatalites,
Skarface,
The Litter,
The Human League,
Absolute Body Control,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fuzztones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hot Snakes,
Audionom,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eve St. Jones,
Nirvana,
Monolake,
Cybotron,
Fear,
The Monochrome Set,
Fad Gadget,
The Monks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dead C,
Bill Near,
Grandmaster Flash,
Funky Four + One,
Youth Brigade,
Procol Harum,
Bob Dylan,
The Zeros,
The Black Dice,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Offenders,
John Holt,
The Victims,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-102,
Intrusion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rufus Thomas,
Carl Craig,
The Golliwogs,
Marc Almond,
Warsaw,
Toni Rubio,
Section 25,
Marcia Griffiths,
World's Most,
Mandrill,
Radiohead,
the Slits,
Jeff Mills,
Echospace,
David McCallum,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.