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 Iceland and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Stockholm Monsters to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Robert Görl,
Angry Samoans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Magma,
Archie Shepp,
Toni Rubio,
Dennis Brown,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mandrill,
a-ha,
Scrapy,
Bush Tetras,
Infiniti,
Yazoo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harry Pussy,
Stiv Bators,
Hardrive,
Babytalk,
Yaz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Beau Brummels,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barry Ungar,
Silicon Teens,
L. Decosne,
Television,
Pet Shop Boys,
Symarip,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lakeside,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Slackers,
Tres Demented,
Darondo,
The Fortunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Essential Logic,
Max Romeo,
Steve Hackett,
Minny Pops,
Man Eating Sloth,
Monolake,
Underground Resistance,
Saccharine Trust,
Grey Daturas,
The Fall,
Matthew Halsall,
The Invisible,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Index,
Scan 7,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Procol Harum,
Slave,
Cymande,
Stereo Dub,
EPMD,
Glenn Branca,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.