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 Belarus and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar 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 Gang Green to the grime 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Smog,
Alison Limerick,
Bang On A Can,
Talk Talk,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Sherman,
Jerry's Kids,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fortunes,
Desert Stars,
Black Moon,
Schoolly D,
Symarip,
Nas,
Connie Case,
Blossom Toes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ten City,
The Gories,
The Last Poets,
Yellowson,
EPMD,
Radiohead,
Wally Richardson,
The Stooges,
Boz Scaggs,
Zapp,
Siglo XX,
Laurel Aitken,
Sun City Girls,
Arcadia,
Gichy Dan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Boogie Down Productions,
Godley & Creme,
Chris Corsano,
DJ Style,
Index,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang Starr,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Peter & Gordon,
Marmalade,
Roy Ayers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Beau Brummels,
Tres Demented,
New York Dolls,
Loose Ends,
Absolute Body Control,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Moody Blues,
Marine Girls,
Second Layer,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Almond,
Crooked Eye,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.