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 Jamaica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 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 The American Breed to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Absolute Body Control,
Mad Mike,
DNA,
Black Moon,
Magma,
Kayak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dual Sessions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Judy Mowatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rekid,
Todd Rundgren,
Inner City,
Simply Red,
Sugar Minott,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Smiths,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gladiators,
Circle Jerks,
The Gap Band,
Skaos,
The Cowsills,
Subhumans,
Negative Approach,
Dawn Penn,
This Heat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Motorama,
Black Pus,
The Cure,
Symarip,
Yellowson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Byron Stingily,
The Moleskins,
Eric Copeland,
Vladislav Delay,
Sandy B,
Robert Hood,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suburban Knight,
June Days,
Freddie Wadling,
Alton Ellis,
Amazonics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Slave,
Joensuu 1685,
Pantaleimon,
Hardrive,
DJ Style,
The Fortunes,
New Age Steppers,
KRS-One,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Move,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.