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 Germany and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Laurel Aitken to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Wings,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacques Brel,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sun City Girls,
the Slits,
Bad Manners,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols,
Ponytail,
Ken Boothe,
ABBA,
The Blackbyrds,
Dorothy Ashby,
Graham Central Station,
Blake Baxter,
MDC,
The Moleskins,
Fluxion,
8 Eyed Spy,
New Age Steppers,
Boz Scaggs,
The Cowsills,
Donny Hathaway,
David McCallum,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terry Callier,
Ultra Naté,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marc Almond,
Roy Ayers,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cure,
John Cale,
The Walker Brothers,
Sarah Menescal,
Au Pairs,
Babytalk,
Tom Boy,
The Fugs,
Freddie Wadling,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Radio Birdman,
Oneida,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radiohead,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Echospace,
Junior Murvin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Max Romeo,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Christie,
June of 44,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Moebius,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.