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 Mali and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro 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 The Gap Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Johnny Clarke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cramps,
The Gories,
Kurtis Blow,
One Last Wish,
Sun City Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brand Nubian,
Alison Limerick,
Camberwell Now,
Quadrant,
June of 44,
Desert Stars,
Monolake,
Ultra Naté,
Shuggie Otis,
The Leaves,
The Electric Prunes,
Tomorrow,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Symarip,
The Techniques,
Brick,
The Toasters,
New Age Steppers,
The Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
Nick Fraelich,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Reagan Youth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Neon Judgement,
Slick Rick,
Bill Near,
Bauhaus,
Second Layer,
John Coltrane,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Almond,
Joyce Sims,
The Sonics,
Jawbox,
Excepter,
Das Ding,
Eric Dolphy,
Barry Ungar,
The Doors,
The Walker Brothers,
Magazine,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Khruangbin,
B.T. Express,
Matthew Halsall,
The Move,
Niagra,
Erykah Badu,
The J.B.'s,
Mission of Burma,
Davy DMX,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boredoms,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.