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 Madrid.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fela Kuti to the crunk 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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Slackers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rapeman,
Crime,
Sunsets and Hearts,
David Bowie,
The Cramps,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Funkadelic,
Thee Headcoats,
Fugazi,
Spandau Ballet,
Connie Case,
Banda Bassotti,
The Smoke,
Public Image Ltd.,
Drexciya,
Blake Baxter,
Shuggie Otis,
Ronan,
Ken Boothe,
Little Man,
John Coltrane,
In Retrospect,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nico,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Man Parrish,
Yusef Lateef,
Moss Icon,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Idris Muhammad,
The Last Poets,
Boredoms,
Graham Central Station,
Ituana,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Laurel Aitken,
Television,
Max Romeo,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Reed,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lyres,
Jacques Brel,
Tom Boy,
Nirvana,
Shoche,
The Durutti Column,
Main Source,
Sparks,
Alton Ellis,
Grauzone,
Groovy Waters,
the Association,
Eric Copeland,
Albert Ayler,
Roger Hodgson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.