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 Paraguay and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Bad Manners to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Wolf Eyes,
Tears for Fears,
U.S. Maple,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Monks,
Pantytec,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cymande,
Kerri Chandler,
Ossler,
Smog,
Chris & Cosey,
Scientists,
The Buckinghams,
Delta 5,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
Piero Umiliani,
Dennis Brown,
The Durutti Column,
Icehouse,
Hashim,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Trojans,
Robert Hood,
Arab on Radar,
The Birthday Party,
Mr. Review,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Barrington Levy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Animal Collective,
Pussy Galore,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sugar Minott,
Inner City,
Talk Talk,
Tom Boy,
World's Most,
K-Klass,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Jeff Lynne,
Absolute Body Control,
Cecil Taylor,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mars,
Tim Buckley,
Mo-Dettes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
La Düsseldorf,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arthur Verocai,
Camberwell Now,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-102,
Yusef Lateef,
John Cale,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sight & Sound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.