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 Montenegro and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Blues Magoos to the crunk 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Absolute Body Control,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Normal,
Susan Cadogan,
The Music Machine,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
H. Thieme,
The Dead C,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Red Krayola,
Chrome,
Sound Behaviour,
Dead Boys,
Moby Grape,
Eric Dolphy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Henry Cow,
Rekid,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tommy Roe,
Shuggie Otis,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Howard Jones,
The Names,
Joensuu 1685,
EPMD,
Faust,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Sound,
Fear,
Lebanon Hanover,
Camberwell Now,
The Last Poets,
Amazonics,
Colin Newman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nirvana,
Sixth Finger,
The Kinks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Residents,
a-ha,
Lower 48,
Khruangbin,
Talk Talk,
The Skatalites,
X-102,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Trojans,
Blossom Toes,
Robert Görl,
Fat Boys,
Audionom,
Grauzone,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Gap Band,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.