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 Mongolia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Quadrant to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Axelrod,
Kayak,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Bananas,
Angry Samoans,
Organ,
Agitation Free,
The Cure,
Don Cherry,
Section 25,
Marcia Griffiths,
Livin' Joy,
Terry Callier,
The Fire Engines,
Todd Rundgren,
Rufus Thomas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Amazonics,
The Zeros,
Mars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skriet,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Slits,
Swans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masters at Work,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Style,
The Misunderstood,
Smog,
Sandy B,
Quantec,
World's Most,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sun Ra,
Nick Fraelich,
Rekid,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gladiators,
The Last Poets,
MC5,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minny Pops,
Country Teasers,
Nirvana,
Matthew Halsall,
Kenny Larkin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Toni Rubio,
the Soft Cell,
K-Klass,
Lucky Dragons,
Ponytail,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.