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 Mali and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Marshall Jefferson,
Glenn Branca,
Gastr Del Sol,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Motions,
The Selecter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Massinfluence,
Pussy Galore,
The Gap Band,
Procol Harum,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aswad,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monks,
Arab on Radar,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy Collins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Red Krayola,
The Vogues,
Banda Bassotti,
Aural Exciters,
June of 44,
Q65,
Avey Tare,
Sight & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Rapeman,
Rekid,
The Happenings,
DJ Style,
Thee Headcoats,
B.T. Express,
CMW,
Ralphi Rosario,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Make Up,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Five Americans,
Wings,
Hoover,
The American Breed,
It's A Beautiful Day,
World's Most,
The Gories,
The Remains,
Negative Approach,
Public Enemy,
The Music Machine,
Juan Atkins,
The Angels of Light,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Swans,
Cluster,
Japan,
Nas,
The Standells,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.