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 Libya and from New York.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ronnie Foster to the grunge 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Minny Pops,
Hashim,
The Music Machine,
Todd Terry,
Panda Bear,
Eddi Front,
Au Pairs,
Unwound,
Metal Thangz,
The Modern Lovers,
Wasted Youth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Kinks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jesper Dahlback,
La Düsseldorf,
Sixth Finger,
Organ,
The Mojo Men,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Inner City,
Stereo Dub,
Negative Approach,
Mission of Burma,
The Tremeloes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Albert Ayler,
The Cowsills,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skarface,
The Martian,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Aswad,
Maurizio,
Scrapy,
Tres Demented,
Rosa Yemen,
The Human League,
Minor Threat,
The Velvet Underground,
World's Most,
Nas,
Index,
DNA,
Clear Light,
The Golliwogs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Sheep,
Johnny Clarke,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lucky Dragons,
T.S.O.L.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fad Gadget,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sight & Sound,
Morten Harket,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.