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 Nauru and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the techno 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Alton Ellis,
One Last Wish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agitation Free,
Bob Dylan,
Accadde A,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Moebius,
ABBA,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Buzzcocks,
Swell Maps,
Gang Starr,
Deadbeat,
Mission of Burma,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pet Shop Boys,
Simply Red,
The Monks,
Black Moon,
Jeff Mills,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Michelle Simonal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling,
Albert Ayler,
Con Funk Shun,
Tomorrow,
Leonard Cohen,
Joyce Sims,
Babytalk,
Royal Trux,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Inner City,
Jacques Brel,
L. Decosne,
The Victims,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ice-T,
Joe Smooth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fatback Band,
cv313,
Kayak,
The Slits,
the Normal,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Todd Terry,
Absolute Body Control,
Audionom,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Velvet Underground,
Bootsy Collins,
New Age Steppers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.