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 Nicaragua and from London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Parry Music to the disco 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Ice-T,
Livin' Joy,
Aswad,
Jeff Lynne,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Cowsills,
The Tremeloes,
Angry Samoans,
CMW,
Guru Guru,
Country Teasers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cameo,
Pierre Henry,
Roxy Music,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lindisfarne,
E-Dancer,
Rites of Spring,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stereo Dub,
The Dead C,
Jawbox,
Brand Nubian,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-102,
Organ,
Eli Mardock,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Byrd,
Sällskapet,
Eddi Front,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sandy B,
Mad Mike,
Malaria!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
a-ha,
Lakeside,
The Fall,
James White and The Blacks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lalann,
Susan Cadogan,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brothers Johnson,
Quando Quango,
The Searchers,
Quadrant,
Camberwell Now,
AZ,
The Real Kids,
Vainqueur,
Josef K,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Selecter,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.