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 Milan.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gang Green to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Fear,
Crash Course in Science,
Sonic Youth,
Sugar Minott,
Susan Cadogan,
Minutemen,
D'Angelo,
Sight & Sound,
The Kinks,
Moby Grape,
Derrick Morgan,
Bang On A Can,
Kevin Saunderson,
Laurel Aitken,
In Retrospect,
Sparks,
Sound Behaviour,
Royal Trux,
Ornette Coleman,
Half Japanese,
H. Thieme,
Davy DMX,
Black Sheep,
Donald Byrd,
Hot Snakes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hardrive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Moebius,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Magazine,
The New Christs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pussy Galore,
Negative Approach,
Electric Prunes,
Anakelly,
Josef K,
Mars,
Vainqueur,
The Pretty Things,
Sex Pistols,
Rosa Yemen,
Pere Ubu,
Danielle Patucci,
Lucky Dragons,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Buckinghams,
Alphaville,
Morten Harket,
Rufus Thomas,
AZ,
Jerry's Kids,
Niagra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Archie Shepp,
Blake Baxter,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.