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 Mexico and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lille.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 48th St. Collective to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tomorrow,
Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Bang On A Can,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arcadia,
Kenny Larkin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Anakelly,
Kayak,
Eurythmics,
The Gories,
Robert Wyatt,
Quantec,
Barbara Tucker,
Harry Pussy,
Letta Mbulu,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fear,
Jerry's Kids,
Lyres,
Gregory Isaacs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fugazi,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Franke,
Bauhaus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
New York Dolls,
Nirvana,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Flag,
John Holt,
Ponytail,
Jawbox,
Ornette Coleman,
Alton Ellis,
Camouflage,
The American Breed,
The Fire Engines,
Susan Cadogan,
Glambeats Corp.,
U.S. Maple,
Ossler,
Gang Gang Dance,
Depeche Mode,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lightning Bolt,
Man Parrish,
Country Teasers,
Flipper,
The Five Americans,
Intrusion,
Gabor Szabo,
Theoretical Girls,
Brass Construction,
The Fortunes,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.