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 Haiti and from Mumbai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rakim to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Joe Smooth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Animal Collective,
The Moleskins,
Robert Wyatt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Livin' Joy,
Mars,
Yusef Lateef,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dark Day,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hasil Adkins,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crooked Eye,
Warren Ellis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Juan Atkins,
June Days,
Peter and Kerry,
The Busters,
The Young Rascals,
Q and Not U,
the Human League,
Sex Pistols,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Inner City,
The Star Department,
The Mummies,
Yellowson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
The United States of America,
Masters at Work,
The Blackbyrds,
Don Cherry,
the Swans,
New Age Steppers,
John Coltrane,
Funky Four + One,
Bush Tetras,
Minnie Riperton,
Wire,
Piero Umiliani,
Theoretical Girls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slackers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Metal Thangz,
The Smiths,
Country Teasers,
New York Dolls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roxette,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.