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 Cape Verde and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Half Japanese to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Hashim,
Piero Umiliani,
Pet Shop Boys,
X-101,
The Birthday Party,
Suicide,
Deepchord,
Ossler,
Zero Boys,
Camouflage,
the Slits,
Wolf Eyes,
DJ Style,
The Sonics,
Radiopuhelimet,
Brass Construction,
Michelle Simonal,
The Moleskins,
The Electric Prunes,
Swell Maps,
Pole,
The Real Kids,
The New Christs,
Althea and Donna,
One Last Wish,
Unwound,
Rapeman,
Bill Wells,
Dennis Brown,
Don Cherry,
Negative Approach,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Erasure,
Intrusion,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ten City,
Pylon,
Colin Newman,
Marmalade,
Kas Product,
The Music Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Connie Case,
the Normal,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultravox,
Beasts of Bourbon,
China Crisis,
Mars,
Flipper,
Joe Finger,
Scientists,
Joensuu 1685,
Scratch Acid,
Fatback Band,
Pulsallama,
John Foxx,
Radio Birdman,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.