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 Egypt and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Robert Palmer 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 Moby Grape to the punk 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Pere Ubu,
Heaven 17,
Prince Buster,
Angry Samoans,
This Heat,
The Modern Lovers,
the Normal,
The Five Americans,
Cal Tjader,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sound Behaviour,
Clear Light,
K-Klass,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pierre Henry,
Vainqueur,
Barbara Tucker,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Human League,
U.S. Maple,
The Count Five,
Swell Maps,
The Doors,
The Dead C,
Kevin Saunderson,
Slave,
Eric Dolphy,
Aaron Thompson,
DNA,
Monks,
T. Rex,
Eric Copeland,
Thompson Twins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Last Poets,
X-101,
Deakin,
AZ,
Amon Düül,
Warren Ellis,
The Smoke,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Danielle Patucci,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Leaves,
Oneida,
Tropical Tobacco,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Bananas,
Todd Terry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Birthday Party,
The Dirtbombs,
Sarah Menescal,
H. Thieme,
The Grass Roots,
Animal Collective,
Quando Quango,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.