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 Maldives and from Manila.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Terrestrial Tones to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Foxx,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
World's Most,
Rites of Spring,
Organ,
The Tremeloes,
Colin Newman,
Fela Kuti,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jacob Miller,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rakim,
Trumans Water,
The Motions,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Con Funk Shun,
Fear,
The Mummies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brick,
Derrick Morgan,
Patti Smith,
Tomorrow,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fire Engines,
Bootsy Collins,
CMW,
Anthony Braxton,
Sällskapet,
Sixth Finger,
Interpol,
Swell Maps,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Letta Mbulu,
Model 500,
The Last Poets,
Franke,
Section 25,
Funkadelic,
Skriet,
Grauzone,
Youth Brigade,
Juan Atkins,
Man Eating Sloth,
Angry Samoans,
Marine Girls,
Pulsallama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Pus,
Byron Stingily,
Chris & Cosey,
Mr. Review,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.