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 Latvia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe 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 Joyce Sims to the funk 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Surgeon,
Bush Tetras,
Cybotron,
Sarah Menescal,
Camberwell Now,
Rakim,
Reuben Wilson,
Brick,
Jacques Brel,
UT,
Funkadelic,
Slick Rick,
Lucky Dragons,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Pus,
Buzzcocks,
Angry Samoans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lyres,
Flash Fearless,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tres Demented,
The Gories,
Von Mondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Faraquet,
Amazonics,
The Raincoats,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sparks,
Bang On A Can,
John Cale,
Shoche,
the Normal,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Robert Hood,
Eve St. Jones,
Circle Jerks,
The Mojo Men,
David Axelrod,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Los Fastidios,
The Cowsills,
Das Ding,
Banda Bassotti,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Star Department,
Amon Düül,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Swell Maps,
Thee Headcoats,
Chris & Cosey,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispy Ambulance,
Newcleus,
Fatback Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stetsasonic,
Michelle Simonal,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.