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 Seychelles and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Steve Hackett,
Unrelated Segments,
Second Layer,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang of Four,
Interpol,
Kerrie Biddell,
Infiniti,
Prince Buster,
Cybotron,
Hashim,
Reuben Wilson,
Silicon Teens,
Y Pants,
Urselle,
Jacob Miller,
CMW,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Q and Not U,
The Kinks,
The Fall,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Wells,
Thee Headcoats,
The Trojans,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Slits,
Television,
Pantytec,
The Zeros,
H. Thieme,
DJ Sneak,
Lindisfarne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Derrick Morgan,
Fear,
The Fortunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Aswad,
Main Source,
The Stooges,
Flash Fearless,
Blake Baxter,
Rites of Spring,
The Skatalites,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bill Near,
Aural Exciters,
Newcleus,
Siglo XX,
Loose Ends,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cramps,
Barry Ungar,
Television Personalities,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.