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 Guatemala and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin 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 This Heat to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mark Hollis,
Scrapy,
Tubeway Army,
Eurythmics,
Cluster,
Moby Grape,
Funky Four + One,
Marine Girls,
Severed Heads,
the Slits,
Pulsallama,
Donny Hathaway,
Wally Richardson,
Howard Jones,
The Seeds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scott Walker,
Kurtis Blow,
Letta Mbulu,
Reuben Wilson,
Agent Orange,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Los Fastidios,
The Remains,
the Soft Cell,
The Skatalites,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yazoo,
MDC,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vladislav Delay,
Brand Nubian,
Make Up,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arcadia,
Crash Course in Science,
Monks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Blues Magoos,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Robert Görl,
Rakim,
Grauzone,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Model 500,
Agitation Free,
Livin' Joy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Saccharine Trust,
Chris Corsano,
Icehouse,
FM Einheit,
The Buckinghams,
Dark Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
Man Parrish,
Radiopuhelimet,
Amon Düül,
Monolake,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.