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 Venezuela and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Man Parrish to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
T.S.O.L.,
Massinfluence,
Unrelated Segments,
The Black Dice,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amon Düül,
Jacques Brel,
the Soft Cell,
Zapp,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tubeway Army,
The Searchers,
Schoolly D,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers,
Hot Snakes,
DJ Sneak,
H. Thieme,
Shuggie Otis,
The Dead C,
Minutemen,
Graham Central Station,
Sight & Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Harpers Bizarre,
Siglo XX,
Robert Wyatt,
Sam Rivers,
Spoonie Gee,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Isaac Hayes,
Eurythmics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
F. McDonald,
Soft Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Buckinghams,
Crime,
Young Marble Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
Bronski Beat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quantec,
Alison Limerick,
Lyres,
Aural Exciters,
Camberwell Now,
Suicide,
Babytalk,
Radiohead,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oneida,
Goldenarms,
Severed Heads,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bauhaus,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.