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 Chad and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Royal Trux to the dance 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Smiths,
The Wake,
The Associates,
The Red Krayola,
The J.B.'s,
48th St. Collective,
Glenn Branca,
Nick Fraelich,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Man Parrish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Idris Muhammad,
Pylon,
Country Teasers,
Adolescents,
The Smoke,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Moody Blues,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sonics,
The Mojo Men,
Hasil Adkins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Second Layer,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Zero Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Golliwogs,
Public Enemy,
The Modern Lovers,
Monks,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Pop Group,
Avey Tare,
the Fania All-Stars,
Talk Talk,
Excepter,
Half Japanese,
Grey Daturas,
The Index,
Outsiders,
Aaron Thompson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Saccharine Trust,
The Victims,
EPMD,
ABC,
Lalann,
Matthew Halsall,
K-Klass,
Dave Gahan,
Brothers Johnson,
Sällskapet,
The Last Poets,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.