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 Senegal and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Real Kids 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Brothers Johnson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Average White Band,
The Invisible,
New Order,
Guru Guru,
Patti Smith,
Joey Negro,
Eric Copeland,
Interpol,
The Selecter,
Pussy Galore,
The United States of America,
Wings,
Aaron Thompson,
Franke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Pus,
Erasure,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Martian,
Idris Muhammad,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Associates,
Roxy Music,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rapeman,
Bobby Sherman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Royal Trux,
Spoonie Gee,
The Slackers,
Donny Hathaway,
Arab on Radar,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lungfish,
D'Angelo,
Kayak,
Traffic Nightmare,
Judy Mowatt,
Dark Day,
Radiohead,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Can,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Neu!,
Fat Boys,
Second Layer,
The Names,
The Tremeloes,
Loose Ends,
Kurtis Blow,
Clear Light,
The Beau Brummels,
DNA,
Boredoms,
Tres Demented,
Malaria!,
Aural Exciters,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.