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 Lebanon and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Television to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joe Smooth,
The Human League,
The Mummies,
Accadde A,
Vainqueur,
Yazoo,
Ten City,
The Detroit Cobras,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Skatalites,
Jawbox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Procol Harum,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Evens,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeff Mills,
Grauzone,
A Certain Ratio,
Drexciya,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Starr,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Babytalk,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Shadows of Knight,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ice-T,
Derrick May,
Crash Course in Science,
Sparks,
Marmalade,
Hasil Adkins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blossom Toes,
Subhumans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Main Source,
John Holt,
The Knickerbockers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bush Tetras,
Quando Quango,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Quadrant,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dead C,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Five Americans,
Yaz,
MDC,
Monolake,
Clear Light,
Marvin Gaye,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultra Naté,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.