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 Maldives and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fire Engines to the rap 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Lightning Bolt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Masters at Work,
Tom Boy,
Grauzone,
Hoover,
AZ,
Faraquet,
Lindisfarne,
the Human League,
Slave,
Rufus Thomas,
Amon Düül,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Last Poets,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Zapp,
Bang On A Can,
The Cure,
Tomorrow,
Ponytail,
Al Stewart,
The Modern Lovers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aural Exciters,
Niagra,
Yaz,
Massinfluence,
Qualms,
Ken Boothe,
Boz Scaggs,
Pagans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Moebius,
Joe Finger,
Angry Samoans,
Buzzcocks,
The Smoke,
Arthur Verocai,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-101,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nirvana,
Half Japanese,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mad Mike,
Theoretical Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Sheep,
H. Thieme,
Funky Four + One,
Byron Stingily,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Visage,
cv313,
The Happenings,
Harry Pussy,
Dennis Brown,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.