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 Grenada and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cowsills to the disco 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Second Layer,
Rapeman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Star Department,
Hardrive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aswad,
Talk Talk,
Avey Tare,
John Coltrane,
Porter Ricks,
Letta Mbulu,
Fad Gadget,
Laurel Aitken,
Boredoms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Index,
Los Fastidios,
Yusef Lateef,
Jandek,
The Trojans,
Bush Tetras,
Liliput,
Bobby Byrd,
David Bowie,
Television,
Vladislav Delay,
Scientists,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ralphi Rosario,
China Crisis,
Rosa Yemen,
The Associates,
David McCallum,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Residents,
Albert Ayler,
Junior Murvin,
New Age Steppers,
Arthur Verocai,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
D'Angelo,
Joe Finger,
Pierre Henry,
Ken Boothe,
KRS-One,
The American Breed,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gichy Dan,
Rakim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Kinks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rod Modell,
Erasure,
The Skatalites,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.