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 Liberia and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 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 Albert Ayler to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
The Beau Brummels,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Holt,
48th St. Collective,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fort Wilson Riot,
cv313,
Cal Tjader,
Alison Limerick,
Sarah Menescal,
Soft Machine,
Kerri Chandler,
Lakeside,
The Raincoats,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Smoke,
Alphaville,
Max Romeo,
Mo-Dettes,
Outsiders,
Rotary Connection,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Susan Cadogan,
Oneida,
Model 500,
Ludus,
Amazonics,
Interpol,
Duran Duran,
Nick Fraelich,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
DJ Style,
Lucky Dragons,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eddi Front,
Fad Gadget,
Minny Pops,
the Sonics,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultra Naté,
Jandek,
The Standells,
Young Marble Giants,
the Germs,
Sound Behaviour,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Anakelly,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Techniques,
Depeche Mode,
Jerry's Kids,
Marcia Griffiths,
Qualms,
The Index,
David Axelrod,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Monolake,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deadbeat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Brick,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.