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 Nicaragua 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ornette Coleman to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Quadrant,
The Toasters,
The Saints,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Golliwogs,
Drexciya,
Malaria!,
Marvin Gaye,
Scion,
Kayak,
Robert Wyatt,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Radiohead,
The United States of America,
Wasted Youth,
The American Breed,
Minutemen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Juan Atkins,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Y Pants,
Eli Mardock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Names,
David McCallum,
Sonny Sharrock,
Agitation Free,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Babytalk,
Motorama,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eric Dolphy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mandrill,
Los Fastidios,
The Cowsills,
Sällskapet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Young Marble Giants,
Cameo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wire,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harry Pussy,
John Foxx,
Moby Grape,
Mad Mike,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roxette,
Alton Ellis,
Black Flag,
Byron Stingily,
Mo-Dettes,
Sandy B,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.