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 France and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator 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 Faraquet to the grunge 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Tears for Fears,
Gong,
T. Rex,
Absolute Body Control,
Joy Division,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Residents,
The United States of America,
Stiv Bators,
Amon Düül II,
Scratch Acid,
Mr. Review,
The Neon Judgement,
Colin Newman,
Bauhaus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alton Ellis,
Hasil Adkins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tommy Roe,
Nils Olav,
Glambeats Corp.,
Davy DMX,
The Busters,
Harry Pussy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Junior Murvin,
Amon Düül,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bush Tetras,
Vladislav Delay,
Mars,
Faraquet,
Aloha Tigers,
The Sonics,
ABBA,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barry Ungar,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Slits,
Grandmaster Flash,
Freddie Wadling,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New York Dolls,
The Move,
X-Ray Spex,
Ponytail,
The Knickerbockers,
Flash Fearless,
Tubeway Army,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rufus Thomas,
Mad Mike,
Robert Görl,
Tomorrow,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Avey Tare,
Andrew Hill,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.