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 Macedonia and from New York.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 chamberlin 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 Crooked Eye to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Blackbyrds,
Au Pairs,
Jeff Lynne,
Mars,
The Misunderstood,
Maleditus Sound,
Little Man,
The Velvet Underground,
Pharoah Sanders,
H. Thieme,
Depeche Mode,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Association,
Mandrill,
Smog,
Index,
The New Christs,
Thee Headcoats,
Alphaville,
Liliput,
Los Fastidios,
Porter Ricks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brick,
The Mojo Men,
Robert Görl,
The Busters,
Goldenarms,
Cheater Slicks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Yaz,
Swell Maps,
Al Stewart,
Peter & Gordon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Henry Cow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eric B and Rakim,
Arcadia,
Donny Hathaway,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sound,
Darondo,
The Angels of Light,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fuzztones,
Cameo,
The Grass Roots,
the Germs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Red Krayola,
Sandy B,
Quando Quango,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ossler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crooked Eye,
The Beau Brummels,
Gong,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.