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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Peter & Gordon to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ice-T,
Tomorrow,
The Flesh Eaters,
B.T. Express,
Can,
The J.B.'s,
The Smoke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythm & Sound,
Drexciya,
Excepter,
Masters at Work,
DNA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mantronix,
Das Ding,
F. McDonald,
Steve Hackett,
Patti Smith,
Joe Smooth,
The American Breed,
The Kinks,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Move,
48th St. Collective,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Todd Rundgren,
The Misunderstood,
Rotary Connection,
The Young Rascals,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gun Club,
Anakelly,
OOIOO,
Derrick Morgan,
Altered Images,
Bang On A Can,
Echospace,
Marmalade,
Sällskapet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Television Personalities,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soulsonic Force,
Jacob Miller,
Interpol,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hashim,
In Retrospect,
Monolake,
Livin' Joy,
The Victims,
Fluxion,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Last Poets,
The Saints,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fire Engines,
Unrelated Segments,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.