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 Chad and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Television,
Average White Band,
Scratch Acid,
Junior Murvin,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling,
Fat Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
The Human League,
Howard Jones,
Scion,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mo-Dettes,
Rosa Yemen,
Warren Ellis,
Jacques Brel,
Zapp,
Rotary Connection,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sound Behaviour,
Siglo XX,
the Slits,
Grandmaster Flash,
In Retrospect,
Terrestrial Tones,
One Last Wish,
Erykah Badu,
Tears for Fears,
Newcleus,
Grey Daturas,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tim Buckley,
Jeru the Damaja,
Arab on Radar,
The Monks,
Amazonics,
Johnny Clarke,
Main Source,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Blues Magoos,
H. Thieme,
DNA,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fuzztones,
Young Marble Giants,
Swell Maps,
The Selecter,
Scott Walker,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Matthew Halsall,
Stiv Bators,
Tres Demented,
Brothers Johnson,
Godley & Creme,
Man Parrish,
Minor Threat,
Bush Tetras,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.