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 Korea South and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 U.S. Maple to the rap 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Black Moon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Saints,
Ituana,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Sherman,
Dual Sessions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Man Parrish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pagans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Electric Prunes,
Nick Fraelich,
The Misunderstood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amon Düül II,
Yazoo,
Nico,
John Foxx,
Traffic Nightmare,
David Bowie,
The Moleskins,
Minor Threat,
Oblivians,
X-101,
Sam Rivers,
Warren Ellis,
Cameo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hasil Adkins,
H. Thieme,
Pylon,
The Modern Lovers,
Byron Stingily,
Fela Kuti,
June of 44,
Brick,
Dawn Penn,
K-Klass,
Ash Ra Tempel,
UT,
Prince Buster,
Livin' Joy,
Pierre Henry,
Von Mondo,
Fatback Band,
Vainqueur,
The Pop Group,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rites of Spring,
Goldenarms,
Junior Murvin,
Y Pants,
Young Marble Giants,
Zapp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.