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 Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb 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 Cecil Taylor to the grime 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers,
Hot Snakes,
Main Source,
Eric Dolphy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Associates,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
Anakelly,
Barrington Levy,
The United States of America,
Dennis Brown,
the Fania All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
Cybotron,
Ten City,
Eurythmics,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
LL Cool J,
Khruangbin,
New Order,
The Dead C,
Bob Dylan,
Joy Division,
Joey Negro,
These Immortal Souls,
Alton Ellis,
Janne Schatter,
The Wake,
The Beau Brummels,
Silicon Teens,
The Neon Judgement,
The Flesh Eaters,
F. McDonald,
Todd Terry,
Todd Rundgren,
Terrestrial Tones,
Siglo XX,
Television,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Desert Stars,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kayak,
The Monks,
Jeff Mills,
Scion,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultravox,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Green,
Bobby Byrd,
Lalo Schifrin,
James White and The Blacks,
Deakin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultra Naté,
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.