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 Pakistan and from Stockholm.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Absolute Body Control to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Max Romeo,
Letta Mbulu,
Ituana,
K-Klass,
Ice-T,
The American Breed,
The Martian,
Oblivians,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Duran Duran,
Cecil Taylor,
Fluxion,
Inner City,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Litter,
Ossler,
Drexciya,
Matthew Bourne,
Stockholm Monsters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minutemen,
Livin' Joy,
kango's stein massive,
The Doors,
Skaos,
Flipper,
Brand Nubian,
Ponytail,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grandmaster Flash,
UT,
Smog,
Pantytec,
Gastr Del Sol,
Alison Limerick,
Sparks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Johnny Clarke,
David Axelrod,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alphaville,
The Knickerbockers,
John Coltrane,
The Residents,
The Neon Judgement,
Colin Newman,
Derrick Morgan,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Velvet Underground,
Michelle Simonal,
Theoretical Girls,
Bush Tetras,
Minor Threat,
Yazoo,
Man Parrish,
48th St. Collective,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.