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 Hungary and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Qualms to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Goldenarms,
the Association,
The Wake,
Deadbeat,
Subhumans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wolf Eyes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Erykah Badu,
Chrome,
X-102,
Sister Nancy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Real Kids,
Funky Four + One,
Radio Birdman,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Vogues,
Bad Manners,
The Leaves,
Crash Course in Science,
Thompson Twins,
Peter and Kerry,
Althea and Donna,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Hood,
the Swans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fatback Band,
Pere Ubu,
T. Rex,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Sheep,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Five Americans,
The American Breed,
Los Fastidios,
Negative Approach,
Porter Ricks,
Mars,
Suicide,
Electric Prunes,
Flash Fearless,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Masters at Work,
Kayak,
Amon Düül,
Bill Near,
Harry Pussy,
Kerri Chandler,
48th St. Collective,
Amazonics,
Graham Central Station,
Stockholm Monsters,
Malaria!,
Derrick Morgan,
Mark Hollis,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.