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 Kyrgyzstan 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The J.B.'s to the rock 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Masters at Work,
Soul II Soul,
Infiniti,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joe Smooth,
Slick Rick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alphaville,
Rosa Yemen,
Blossom Toes,
Kas Product,
Neil Young,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Görl,
Connie Case,
Rites of Spring,
K-Klass,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Can,
Robert Hood,
10cc,
Goldenarms,
Delta 5,
Bob Dylan,
The Misunderstood,
A Certain Ratio,
DNA,
Underground Resistance,
Nik Kershaw,
U.S. Maple,
Excepter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nirvana,
Gang Starr,
Whodini,
Adolescents,
Minnie Riperton,
Scrapy,
Duran Duran,
MDC,
The Gap Band,
Hardrive,
Roy Ayers,
The Cramps,
Peter and Kerry,
Babytalk,
Terry Callier,
John Coltrane,
Kurtis Blow,
Country Teasers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Colin Newman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sound Behaviour,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.