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 Gambia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Radiohead to the rock 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Das Ding,
Rites of Spring,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liliput,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Zeros,
Gang of Four,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gong,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Shoche,
Warsaw,
Scientists,
Au Pairs,
The Searchers,
Bronski Beat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Delta 5,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arcadia,
The Wake,
Minnie Riperton,
Suburban Knight,
The Mummies,
Cymande,
Country Teasers,
Lou Reed,
Ituana,
The Red Krayola,
FM Einheit,
John Coltrane,
The Golliwogs,
Talk Talk,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bad Manners,
Essential Logic,
Camberwell Now,
Rosa Yemen,
David McCallum,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Sparks,
Niagra,
The Moody Blues,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Von Mondo,
Mantronix,
Masters at Work,
Delon & Dalcan,
Juan Atkins,
Andrew Hill,
The Slackers,
Amazonics,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.