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 Bolivia and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 The Dirtbombs to the funk 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Faraquet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Derrick May,
Drexciya,
Q and Not U,
Robert Hood,
Hasil Adkins,
Erasure,
Man Eating Sloth,
Accadde A,
Brothers Johnson,
The Index,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Smiths,
Man Parrish,
The Angels of Light,
Monolake,
The Music Machine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Isaac Hayes,
The Sonics,
Chrome,
B.T. Express,
Al Stewart,
Glenn Branca,
the Normal,
June of 44,
Todd Terry,
La Düsseldorf,
Charles Mingus,
Ice-T,
Bang On A Can,
Yusef Lateef,
Joe Smooth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eli Mardock,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Banda Bassotti,
the Association,
DJ Sneak,
The Gladiators,
DNA,
Absolute Body Control,
Fatback Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Iggy Pop,
The Real Kids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Country Teasers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hardrive,
The Litter,
Depeche Mode,
Skarface,
Radiohead,
Pere Ubu,
cv313,
John Foxx,
X-102,
Das Ding,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.