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 Namibia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the funk 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Aswad,
The Moody Blues,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mr. Review,
Bill Near,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Velvet Underground,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Animal Collective,
The Seeds,
Tom Boy,
Pere Ubu,
Reuben Wilson,
Maurizio,
Erasure,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Fraelich,
Can,
Girls At Our Best!,
Public Enemy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mad Mike,
The Zeros,
DNA,
Charles Mingus,
Stetsasonic,
The Toasters,
Minnie Riperton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Darondo,
Yellowson,
Thee Headcoats,
The Smiths,
Mars,
Zero Boys,
The Five Americans,
Shuggie Otis,
The Barracudas,
Lou Reed,
The Vogues,
Rakim,
The Fall,
Amon Düül II,
Banda Bassotti,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Mummies,
Faust,
The Slackers,
Depeche Mode,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ohio Players,
Nas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bizarre Inc.,
Los Fastidios,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.