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 Vietnam and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum 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 Heaven 17 to the grunge 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Interpol,
Monks,
Oneida,
Pulsallama,
Moby Grape,
Scott Walker,
Cymande,
Shuggie Otis,
ABC,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
Peter and Kerry,
X-Ray Spex,
Scientists,
Steve Hackett,
Janne Schatter,
The Fortunes,
The Happenings,
Duran Duran,
Siglo XX,
Slick Rick,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Starr,
Young Marble Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
Excepter,
Morten Harket,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sister Nancy,
Ronan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rekid,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mark Hollis,
Ossler,
Moss Icon,
Matthew Halsall,
Eurythmics,
Camouflage,
Franke,
Arab on Radar,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crime,
Rosa Yemen,
Carl Craig,
Yazoo,
Terry Callier,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sixth Finger,
Althea and Donna,
Babytalk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.