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 Switzerland and from Salvador.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Supertramp to the grime 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Rapeman,
Jeff Lynne,
Sight & Sound,
A Certain Ratio,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Görl,
Soul II Soul,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Move,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minny Pops,
Drive Like Jehu,
10cc,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Vogues,
Cluster,
Moby Grape,
Camouflage,
Warren Ellis,
Amon Düül II,
Bootsy Collins,
Dark Day,
The Saints,
Maurizio,
Au Pairs,
Negative Approach,
Duran Duran,
Matthew Bourne,
Kayak,
Scratch Acid,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eric B and Rakim,
Vainqueur,
The Remains,
The Zeros,
the Sonics,
Altered Images,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blossom Toes,
Jeru the Damaja,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fortunes,
Man Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
The Dirtbombs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eric Dolphy,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Techniques,
Dead Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
MC5,
Popol Vuh,
CMW,
The Dead C,
Spandau Ballet,
Rakim,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.