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 Cambodia and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
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 organ 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 The Shadows of Knight to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
John Foxx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Spandau Ballet,
Arcadia,
Pussy Galore,
Agent Orange,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blossom Toes,
Alice Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
Iggy Pop,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Residents,
Symarip,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Index,
Fad Gadget,
Yusef Lateef,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kayak,
Harry Pussy,
Franke,
Brothers Johnson,
Joensuu 1685,
Cymande,
Susan Cadogan,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Los Fastidios,
E-Dancer,
Eli Mardock,
James White and The Blacks,
Barrington Levy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Dawn Penn,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marshall Jefferson,
Unrelated Segments,
Wally Richardson,
The Vogues,
Pantytec,
Scott Walker,
The Last Poets,
Toni Rubio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nils Olav,
Bill Near,
The Seeds,
Smog,
Gastr Del Sol,
Depeche Mode,
Duran Duran,
The Count Five,
Erykah Badu,
Saccharine Trust,
Animal Collective,
Swell Maps,
China Crisis,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.