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 Rwanda and from Halifax.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Ultra Naté to the jazz 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Roxette,
Fad Gadget,
Lucky Dragons,
The Leaves,
Bauhaus,
The Pretty Things,
ABBA,
The Music Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kas Product,
The Neon Judgement,
Isaac Hayes,
Stereo Dub,
Unwound,
Alice Coltrane,
Suicide,
The Remains,
Tom Boy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Grass Roots,
Niagra,
Man Parrish,
The Searchers,
The Pop Group,
Lower 48,
Carl Craig,
The Monks,
Idris Muhammad,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joy Division,
The Flesh Eaters,
The J.B.'s,
Brick,
the Normal,
Gastr Del Sol,
Slick Rick,
Rod Modell,
David McCallum,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sixth Finger,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hoover,
Wasted Youth,
Second Layer,
PIL,
CMW,
JFA,
Jacob Miller,
Dark Day,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Victims,
The Mighty Diamonds,
ABC,
Todd Terry,
Robert Hood,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.