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 Panama 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Prince Buster to the electroclash 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
John Holt,
Outsiders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Aswad,
The Monochrome Set,
Bizarre Inc.,
Parry Music,
Stetsasonic,
Rakim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Moon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vladislav Delay,
Desert Stars,
the Association,
Fatback Band,
Y Pants,
Roy Ayers,
Depeche Mode,
One Last Wish,
Sarah Menescal,
Derrick May,
The Toasters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jacques Brel,
Tres Demented,
Minutemen,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare,
Whodini,
Gong,
Motorama,
The Durutti Column,
Piero Umiliani,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Starr,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Half Japanese,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
PIL,
Morten Harket,
Nils Olav,
Connie Case,
Warren Ellis,
E-Dancer,
Kas Product,
Pere Ubu,
Aural Exciters,
Gang of Four,
Fear,
Rosa Yemen,
Quantec,
Amazonics,
Magazine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hasil Adkins,
Sam Rivers,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.