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 Panama and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Scion,
Camouflage,
Freddie Wadling,
Joey Negro,
JFA,
Ossler,
Absolute Body Control,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Al Stewart,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Kinks,
The Music Machine,
Interpol,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Moon,
Todd Terry,
The Seeds,
Bobby Byrd,
Roy Ayers,
Donald Byrd,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Desert Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
Public Enemy,
Tubeway Army,
Drexciya,
Slave,
Piero Umiliani,
the Normal,
Bootsy Collins,
Roger Hodgson,
Sarah Menescal,
The Skatalites,
The Red Krayola,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Swans,
The Busters,
Bill Near,
Fluxion,
Theoretical Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Easy Going,
Dorothy Ashby,
AZ,
The Move,
Amon Düül II,
Fela Kuti,
Radio Birdman,
Shoche,
Model 500,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Janne Schatter,
The Trojans,
Marvin Gaye,
The Divine Comedy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ralphi Rosario,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-101,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.