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 Niger and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Detroit Cobras to the rock 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Black Pus,
Radiohead,
Donald Byrd,
The Barracudas,
Ronan,
Amazonics,
Can,
Graham Central Station,
Alice Coltrane,
Moby Grape,
Loose Ends,
Faraquet,
Drive Like Jehu,
FM Einheit,
Joyce Sims,
Jeff Lynne,
Amon Düül,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Monolake,
Talk Talk,
Judy Mowatt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Wyatt,
DNA,
Average White Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Stetsasonic,
Cameo,
Crooked Eye,
Bootsy Collins,
Zapp,
The Fuzztones,
a-ha,
Nas,
Harry Pussy,
Zero Boys,
Ohio Players,
The Cowsills,
Derrick Morgan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scott Walker,
Brand Nubian,
Camouflage,
The Grass Roots,
Livin' Joy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cybotron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sex Pistols,
Minor Threat,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Christie,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Barrington Levy,
Marmalade,
X-101,
Eden Ahbez,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.