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 Laos and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Arab on Radar to the dance 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kayak,
H. Thieme,
The Black Dice,
Nils Olav,
Siglo XX,
Joe Finger,
Minutemen,
The Count Five,
Chrome,
Josef K,
The Slackers,
Severed Heads,
Mark Hollis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Depeche Mode,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jawbox,
Moss Icon,
Isaac Hayes,
Goldenarms,
Sällskapet,
Wolf Eyes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Neu!,
Soft Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Kenny Larkin,
Fad Gadget,
Robert Hood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eve St. Jones,
a-ha,
Warren Ellis,
Second Layer,
E-Dancer,
The Flesh Eaters,
Los Fastidios,
The Five Americans,
Newcleus,
Roy Ayers,
Rites of Spring,
Little Man,
The Vogues,
Marvin Gaye,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mojo Men,
X-Ray Spex,
Reagan Youth,
Lakeside,
Q65,
The Gories,
48th St. Collective,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sandy B,
Urselle,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.