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 Philippines and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba 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 Banda Bassotti to the jazz 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 Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Vladislav Delay,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Victims,
Scan 7,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Maurizio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Maleditus Sound,
Symarip,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mark Hollis,
The American Breed,
Ice-T,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Index,
The Cowsills,
The Dirtbombs,
Pussy Galore,
Davy DMX,
Derrick May,
Charles Mingus,
The Seeds,
Soft Cell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Green,
Mad Mike,
Todd Rundgren,
Stiv Bators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DNA,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang Gang Dance,
Porter Ricks,
Quantec,
Deepchord,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lightning Bolt,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bad Manners,
John Cale,
Anthony Braxton,
The Associates,
Joensuu 1685,
Moss Icon,
Tres Demented,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nils Olav,
The Grass Roots,
Soul II Soul,
H. Thieme,
Pylon,
Slave,
Archie Shepp,
The Residents,
In Retrospect,
Suicide,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.