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 Afghanistan and from New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Flash Fearless to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Carl Craig,
The Martian,
The Saints,
Kas Product,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marshall Jefferson,
Brick,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cluster,
the Slits,
Hot Snakes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hasil Adkins,
The Music Machine,
Von Mondo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radio Birdman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fat Boys,
CMW,
Sun City Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yusef Lateef,
Nirvana,
Peter & Gordon,
Idris Muhammad,
New Age Steppers,
Procol Harum,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Beau Brummels,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minor Threat,
Andrew Hill,
New Order,
World's Most,
Lou Christie,
Tears for Fears,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Donny Hathaway,
Boredoms,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Donald Byrd,
Blancmange,
Jandek,
The Blackbyrds,
Robert Hood,
Soul Sonic Force,
Brass Construction,
James White and The Blacks,
Deepchord,
Q65,
Main Source,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Modern Lovers,
Oblivians,
The Doobie Brothers,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.