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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The J.B.'s to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Fear,
Dead Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Au Pairs,
Camouflage,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Moon,
Jawbox,
Malaria!,
Harpers Bizarre,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Black Dice,
Peter and Kerry,
Inner City,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rakim,
Al Stewart,
The Five Americans,
The Smiths,
FM Einheit,
Kenny Larkin,
Althea and Donna,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Loose Ends,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Boredoms,
Pole,
a-ha,
Michelle Simonal,
Eric B and Rakim,
Reuben Wilson,
Aural Exciters,
Average White Band,
The Buckinghams,
Ice-T,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Angry Samoans,
KRS-One,
Toni Rubio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Maurizio,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Saccharine Trust,
Alphaville,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dark Day,
Cheater Slicks,
Gabor Szabo,
Cal Tjader,
Chris Corsano,
K-Klass,
Moby Grape,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.