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 Mali and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Section 25 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Gabor Szabo,
Henry Cow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Harry Pussy,
The Mummies,
Con Funk Shun,
Mad Mike,
X-101,
Tres Demented,
PIL,
Laurel Aitken,
Country Teasers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Simply Red,
Colin Newman,
Symarip,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harmonia,
The Mojo Men,
Skaos,
Q and Not U,
Crash Course in Science,
The Blues Magoos,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Selecter,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sonics,
Jeru the Damaja,
Buzzcocks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
48th St. Collective,
Radio Birdman,
Flash Fearless,
Audionom,
Roger Hodgson,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Electric Prunes,
X-Ray Spex,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Remains,
The Searchers,
Black Sheep,
These Immortal Souls,
Quando Quango,
Kaleidoscope,
Babytalk,
Brass Construction,
Jerry's Kids,
Reagan Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ponytail,
The Divine Comedy,
Altered Images,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eric Copeland,
The Cowsills,
Nick Fraelich,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stereo Dub,
Franke,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.