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 Oman and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes 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 Laurel Aitken to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Alphaville,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joyce Sims,
Crispy Ambulance,
Quadrant,
ABBA,
Newcleus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mars,
Sound Behaviour,
Ohio Players,
Henry Cow,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hoover,
Junior Murvin,
The Knickerbockers,
Organ,
KRS-One,
Bootsy Collins,
D'Angelo,
Pole,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cybotron,
Au Pairs,
Soul II Soul,
Ken Boothe,
Boz Scaggs,
Bad Manners,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lindisfarne,
The Golliwogs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DJ Style,
OOIOO,
Sun Ra,
Tears for Fears,
Quando Quango,
the Slits,
The Saints,
Audionom,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wally Richardson,
The Last Poets,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Roxette,
Warsaw,
One Last Wish,
Camouflage,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crash Course in Science,
Second Layer,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.