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 Tonga and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Newcleus to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
ABBA,
T. Rex,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pantytec,
Zapp,
Idris Muhammad,
Silicon Teens,
Bobby Byrd,
The Last Poets,
The Saints,
Altered Images,
Traffic Nightmare,
Maleditus Sound,
The Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hardrive,
Howard Jones,
The American Breed,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
Isaac Hayes,
Agent Orange,
The Move,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultra Naté,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stiv Bators,
Spoonie Gee,
The Doobie Brothers,
Siglo XX,
a-ha,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Raincoats,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang of Four,
Wolf Eyes,
Das Ding,
Chris & Cosey,
China Crisis,
Funkadelic,
Sun City Girls,
Prince Buster,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Funky Four + One,
Peter and Kerry,
The Durutti Column,
Pagans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scrapy,
Kas Product,
Whodini,
Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Inner City,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.