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 Nicaragua and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Sherman,
Charles Mingus,
The Divine Comedy,
Camouflage,
Banda Bassotti,
Brothers Johnson,
L. Decosne,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Young Rascals,
Nick Fraelich,
DJ Sneak,
The Remains,
Con Funk Shun,
Sex Pistols,
Mission of Burma,
Excepter,
Derrick May,
Lucky Dragons,
Lalann,
Gang of Four,
Das Ding,
Deadbeat,
The Move,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q65,
The Tremeloes,
Circle Jerks,
Cal Tjader,
The Real Kids,
Peter and Kerry,
48th St. Collective,
Joy Division,
Bob Dylan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Chris & Cosey,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pylon,
A Certain Ratio,
Cameo,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Invisible,
Lungfish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lindisfarne,
Marvin Gaye,
Stereo Dub,
Jesper Dahlback,
Judy Mowatt,
Agitation Free,
Hardrive,
Arthur Verocai,
John Lydon,
In Retrospect,
Skaos,
Sun Ra,
Severed Heads,
Smog,
The Leaves,
Juan Atkins,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.