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 Jamaica and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
The Beau Brummels,
Harpers Bizarre,
Yazoo,
Mad Mike,
The American Breed,
Bluetip,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Chris Corsano,
Ossler,
Isaac Hayes,
Stereo Dub,
Radiohead,
Al Stewart,
Harmonia,
Pylon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Lydon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Camouflage,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Velvet Underground,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hoover,
Mantronix,
Public Enemy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Faraquet,
The Dirtbombs,
Buzzcocks,
The Seeds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Procol Harum,
In Retrospect,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
James Chance & The Contortions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Althea and Donna,
Livin' Joy,
Danielle Patucci,
Jacques Brel,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Yellowson,
Kaleidoscope,
Nik Kershaw,
Gang of Four,
Marshall Jefferson,
Johnny Clarke,
Lightning Bolt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Coltrane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pulsallama,
Mr. Review,
Tomorrow,
B.T. Express,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.