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 Swaziland and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 DNA to the grime 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Iggy Pop,
Archie Shepp,
Sandy B,
Wasted Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tubeway Army,
Khruangbin,
The Move,
Rod Modell,
Brass Construction,
the Association,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ossler,
Liliput,
Slave,
The Black Dice,
Aloha Tigers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Maurizio,
Quando Quango,
The Litter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Residents,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Martian,
Eli Mardock,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fortunes,
Sam Rivers,
The Count Five,
Eric Dolphy,
Shuggie Otis,
Marmalade,
Reagan Youth,
The Red Krayola,
the Slits,
U.S. Maple,
The Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Kas Product,
Delta 5,
Vladislav Delay,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aural Exciters,
Whodini,
Duran Duran,
The Misunderstood,
Faust,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Arab on Radar,
Wally Richardson,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Busters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.