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 Mali and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Neon Judgement to the electroclash 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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Ten City,
Pere Ubu,
Pierre Henry,
The Toasters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
June Days,
Patti Smith,
The Wake,
Ken Boothe,
Crime,
Sam Rivers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun Ra,
Essential Logic,
La Düsseldorf,
Grey Daturas,
Can,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
A Certain Ratio,
Flipper,
This Heat,
Ludus,
Surgeon,
Stetsasonic,
Juan Atkins,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gap Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Circle Jerks,
DNA,
Blake Baxter,
The Remains,
The Move,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Average White Band,
Prince Buster,
Fela Kuti,
The Pop Group,
Roxy Music,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Byrd,
Zero Boys,
Fat Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
The Index,
Dennis Brown,
Cymande,
Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
Loose Ends,
One Last Wish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tears for Fears,
The Mummies,
Warsaw,
Popol Vuh,
Cameo,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.