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 Algeria and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sandy B to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas 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?
Boredoms,
The Motions,
Fat Boys,
Quando Quango,
Tom Boy,
the Soft Cell,
Marvin Gaye,
The Selecter,
Blancmange,
Alice Coltrane,
Ronnie Foster,
Heaven 17,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Evens,
Roxette,
Harpers Bizarre,
Interpol,
Minutemen,
Jandek,
The New Christs,
Japan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James White and The Blacks,
Sällskapet,
LL Cool J,
Eden Ahbez,
L. Decosne,
Charles Mingus,
The Searchers,
The Vogues,
Scientists,
Niagra,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Black Pus,
Wally Richardson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
kango's stein massive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Josef K,
The Offenders,
Suicide,
Brick,
Jacob Miller,
Fad Gadget,
Mr. Review,
Moss Icon,
Black Moon,
D'Angelo,
Yaz,
These Immortal Souls,
PIL,
Kas Product,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cymande,
The Moody Blues,
Monks,
Avey Tare,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.