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 Mongolia and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alton Ellis to the jazz 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Hardrive,
Rhythm & Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Graham Central Station,
Unwound,
Roxette,
Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
Michelle Simonal,
Judy Mowatt,
Chris Corsano,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Pop Group,
Drive Like Jehu,
Laurel Aitken,
L. Decosne,
Black Flag,
the Swans,
Amazonics,
AZ,
Gang of Four,
Ice-T,
Radiopuhelimet,
Metal Thangz,
The Modern Lovers,
Echospace,
Hot Snakes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
China Crisis,
Babytalk,
Blossom Toes,
Sällskapet,
Sonic Youth,
Au Pairs,
David Bowie,
Harry Pussy,
Vladislav Delay,
Scion,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brand Nubian,
The Moleskins,
ABC,
Marvin Gaye,
Bad Manners,
Grauzone,
Dark Day,
Gong,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Make Up,
The Blackbyrds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Smog,
Fela Kuti,
The Offenders,
Second Layer,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Clarke,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Kinks,
World's Most,
Barrington Levy,
Fugazi,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.