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 Kosovo and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Zero Boys to the rock 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rhythm & Sound,
Siglo XX,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blake Baxter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Vogues,
kango's stein massive,
The Slackers,
OOIOO,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Avey Tare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pylon,
Steve Hackett,
Mandrill,
Gang of Four,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Smiths,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
Brand Nubian,
Oblivians,
Electric Light Orchestra,
James White and The Blacks,
The Move,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Zapp,
Delta 5,
Can,
Graham Central Station,
Blancmange,
The Durutti Column,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Five Americans,
Robert Wyatt,
Quadrant,
Moby Grape,
Slave,
the Normal,
Althea and Donna,
Aaron Thompson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kas Product,
Gil Scott Heron,
UT,
Minny Pops,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chrome,
The Last Poets,
Amazonics,
Ultra Naté,
The Misunderstood,
Rufus Thomas,
Slick Rick,
Donald Byrd,
Josef K,
The Skatalites,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.