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 Mexico and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Quando Quango to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
ABC,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dead C,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joey Negro,
Neil Young,
The Fuzztones,
Stereo Dub,
The Names,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tears for Fears,
Grandmaster Flash,
Urselle,
Unwound,
Fela Kuti,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Los Fastidios,
Gichy Dan,
World's Most,
The Martian,
Reuben Wilson,
Marine Girls,
OOIOO,
Jeff Mills,
Brand Nubian,
David McCallum,
Marvin Gaye,
Easy Going,
Niagra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Depeche Mode,
The Stooges,
the Fania All-Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tomorrow,
The Searchers,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Arthur Verocai,
Matthew Bourne,
Mars,
Inner City,
The Happenings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Surgeon,
Althea and Donna,
Soft Machine,
Nico,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Green,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Donny Hathaway,
Heaven 17,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.