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 Comoros and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Johnny Osbourne to the electroclash 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
CMW,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Normal,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eddi Front,
Whodini,
The Five Americans,
LL Cool J,
Siglo XX,
Can,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rapeman,
Accadde A,
Derrick Morgan,
Jacques Brel,
Los Fastidios,
The Black Dice,
cv313,
Q65,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Cowsills,
H. Thieme,
Harry Pussy,
Severed Heads,
Don Cherry,
Soulsonic Force,
Monks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lower 48,
Roger Hodgson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rekid,
Barbara Tucker,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sight & Sound,
David Axelrod,
Sparks,
Eden Ahbez,
The Knickerbockers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wally Richardson,
Jawbox,
The Velvet Underground,
Tomorrow,
Swans,
The Modern Lovers,
Ronnie Foster,
Quadrant,
The Beau Brummels,
the Association,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Simply Red,
Ken Boothe,
Hardrive,
The Techniques,
The Vogues,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fela Kuti,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.