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 Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Tremeloes,
Black Flag,
Todd Rundgren,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
Black Bananas,
Fear,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mandrill,
The Evens,
Q65,
Kevin Saunderson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sam Rivers,
Bronski Beat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Basic Channel,
Interpol,
Minor Threat,
Excepter,
The Moleskins,
Gichy Dan,
Eric Copeland,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joy Division,
Crispian St. Peters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bootsy Collins,
The Beau Brummels,
Scott Walker,
Gang of Four,
Essential Logic,
The Count Five,
Joyce Sims,
Byron Stingily,
Faust,
New York Dolls,
Silicon Teens,
June of 44,
Vladislav Delay,
The Birthday Party,
Qualms,
Adolescents,
Flipper,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kas Product,
The Dead C,
Rod Modell,
Eric Dolphy,
Eli Mardock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Metal Thangz,
John Lydon,
Sugar Minott,
One Last Wish,
Jacob Miller,
A Certain Ratio,
Barry Ungar,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.