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 Iran and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pulsallama to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Mad Mike,
Cymande,
Nick Fraelich,
Chris & Cosey,
Wire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
cv313,
DNA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cure,
Ponytail,
Yusef Lateef,
Yaz,
Iggy Pop,
Sandy B,
Connie Case,
The Electric Prunes,
Supertramp,
The Fortunes,
Marc Almond,
Das Ding,
Nils Olav,
Lungfish,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dorothy Ashby,
Accadde A,
The Human League,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moody Blues,
Rekid,
Suicide,
PIL,
Skriet,
The Last Poets,
Slick Rick,
Camberwell Now,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hot Snakes,
The Smiths,
Cheater Slicks,
Colin Newman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Aloha Tigers,
Alton Ellis,
Jimmy McGriff,
Underground Resistance,
Television,
The Knickerbockers,
Johnny Osbourne,
B.T. Express,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Monochrome Set,
Symarip,
the Sonics,
Outsiders,
Ken Boothe,
Massinfluence,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.