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 Bangladesh and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cheater Slicks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Al Stewart,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Red Krayola,
Shuggie Otis,
The Slits,
48th St. Collective,
Tom Boy,
James White and The Blacks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ornette Coleman,
Mark Hollis,
The Beau Brummels,
Japan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Wyatt,
Siglo XX,
Todd Rundgren,
Pantaleimon,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stereo Dub,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brand Nubian,
Bauhaus,
Lou Christie,
ABC,
Agent Orange,
Marmalade,
The Last Poets,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hot Snakes,
Warren Ellis,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Donald Byrd,
The Count Five,
Pussy Galore,
Wings,
Eddi Front,
Neu!,
Scientists,
Dennis Brown,
John Cale,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Blake Baxter,
E-Dancer,
The Kinks,
T.S.O.L.,
Suburban Knight,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Max Romeo,
Theoretical Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Rotary Connection,
Clear Light,
Cecil Taylor,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.