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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the rap 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Morten Harket,
Banda Bassotti,
Nick Fraelich,
Todd Terry,
David McCallum,
T. Rex,
Fluxion,
The Angels of Light,
Skaos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
X-101,
Mad Mike,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marvin Gaye,
Popol Vuh,
Wire,
Marmalade,
The Alarm Clocks,
kango's stein massive,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bad Manners,
The Vogues,
The Gun Club,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Khruangbin,
The Move,
Skarface,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed,
Rapeman,
the Swans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hardrive,
10cc,
Spoonie Gee,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yellowson,
Marine Girls,
David Axelrod,
Alice Coltrane,
The Velvet Underground,
Yazoo,
Jesper Dahlback,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Joe Smooth,
Con Funk Shun,
Charles Mingus,
Sex Pistols,
The Slackers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric Dolphy,
Nico,
Bronski Beat,
Scientists,
Subhumans,
Shuggie Otis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Toni Rubio,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.