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 Uzbekistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 Oblivians to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Second Layer,
Qualms,
Angry Samoans,
Aswad,
The American Breed,
Barry Ungar,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Maleditus Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eve St. Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skaos,
Zapp,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Skarface,
Eric Copeland,
New Age Steppers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Slave,
Lou Christie,
Radio Birdman,
KRS-One,
The Searchers,
The Music Machine,
Basic Channel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deepchord,
Monks,
The Smoke,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Association,
Sound Behaviour,
Ice-T,
Popol Vuh,
The Leaves,
The Five Americans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Outsiders,
Ponytail,
Silicon Teens,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sparks,
Byron Stingily,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Dead C,
June Days,
Siglo XX,
Duran Duran,
Wolf Eyes,
Symarip,
Intrusion,
Buzzcocks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mantronix,
Electric Prunes,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.