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 Belarus and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Michael McDonald 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 Frankie Knuckles to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Peter and Kerry,
Althea and Donna,
Laurel Aitken,
Qualms,
Erykah Badu,
Theoretical Girls,
Aswad,
Technova,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sound Behaviour,
Erasure,
Swans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Severed Heads,
Von Mondo,
H. Thieme,
Jacques Brel,
The New Christs,
Hoover,
Boz Scaggs,
Steve Hackett,
The Velvet Underground,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
kango's stein massive,
Faust,
Babytalk,
Young Marble Giants,
Wolf Eyes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Knickerbockers,
Con Funk Shun,
Lakeside,
Carl Craig,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cure,
the Germs,
the Normal,
Sparks,
The Durutti Column,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cowsills,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soft Cell,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Association,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pere Ubu,
a-ha,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barrington Levy,
Livin' Joy,
Talk Talk,
Hot Snakes,
The Slackers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cybotron,
Ten City,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.