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 Tanzania and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Idris Muhammad to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Fela Kuti,
Mandrill,
Supertramp,
Davy DMX,
Lungfish,
Brand Nubian,
Can,
Alton Ellis,
Tears for Fears,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Quantec,
Kurtis Blow,
X-Ray Spex,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Livin' Joy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rufus Thomas,
The Motions,
Glenn Branca,
David Bowie,
kango's stein massive,
Depeche Mode,
Toni Rubio,
The Zeros,
KRS-One,
Bobby Byrd,
Bang On A Can,
Juan Atkins,
Sister Nancy,
Youth Brigade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Motorama,
L. Decosne,
UT,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Half Japanese,
Erykah Badu,
The Gun Club,
ABC,
Deadbeat,
Sight & Sound,
Goldenarms,
Reuben Wilson,
Schoolly D,
Nick Fraelich,
The Selecter,
Sam Rivers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tres Demented,
The Electric Prunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Music Machine,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deakin,
Sixth Finger,
Rhythm & Sound,
Intrusion,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Henry Cow,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.