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 France and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Erykah Badu to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader 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?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barbara Tucker,
The Young Rascals,
Prince Buster,
Metal Thangz,
Con Funk Shun,
The Seeds,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hardrive,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dawn Penn,
Derrick May,
Easy Going,
Suburban Knight,
Wire,
Mantronix,
Faust,
Urselle,
Mo-Dettes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
AZ,
Pierre Henry,
Essential Logic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cecil Taylor,
Angry Samoans,
Excepter,
Au Pairs,
Rakim,
Janne Schatter,
Andrew Hill,
Simply Red,
Bauhaus,
Trumans Water,
Panda Bear,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bad Manners,
Soul Sonic Force,
Saccharine Trust,
Shuggie Otis,
Carl Craig,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Blues Magoos,
Youth Brigade,
Mark Hollis,
The American Breed,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Stooges,
Byron Stingily,
Sight & Sound,
Minutemen,
Jacques Brel,
Zapp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Inner City,
Pere Ubu,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.