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 Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wolf Eyes to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Grass Roots,
The Blackbyrds,
Niagra,
Bobby Womack,
Black Pus,
The Saints,
Brass Construction,
Bush Tetras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Skaos,
Nico,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Roxette,
Buzzcocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Davy DMX,
the Soft Cell,
Connie Case,
Franke,
Eddi Front,
The Electric Prunes,
Trumans Water,
Television Personalities,
Ronnie Foster,
Warren Ellis,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jeff Mills,
Pussy Galore,
Kerrie Biddell,
D'Angelo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arthur Verocai,
Cheater Slicks,
John Coltrane,
Vainqueur,
Brand Nubian,
Janne Schatter,
New Age Steppers,
Max Romeo,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cramps,
Gang Starr,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Y Pants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Bananas,
Ronan,
Rekid,
T. Rex,
Aural Exciters,
Magma,
Radio Birdman,
This Heat,
Zapp,
Ossler,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.