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 Angola and from New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nas to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Michelle Simonal,
Surgeon,
Aural Exciters,
Dennis Brown,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Zero Boys,
Tears for Fears,
the Bar-Kays,
E-Dancer,
The Smoke,
Gong,
Lucky Dragons,
The Sonics,
The Slackers,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dirtbombs,
Thee Headcoats,
Animal Collective,
Warren Ellis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Beau Brummels,
Flipper,
Steve Hackett,
Trumans Water,
The Move,
Kenny Larkin,
L. Decosne,
Arcadia,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bob Dylan,
UT,
Danielle Patucci,
Swell Maps,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pole,
Niagra,
Avey Tare,
Ultravox,
Franke,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Womack,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Maurizio,
Joy Division,
Dark Day,
Minor Threat,
Funkadelic,
48th St. Collective,
Henry Cow,
Quando Quango,
The Monks,
Amazonics,
Yellowson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
China Crisis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.