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 Armenia and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Soul Sonic Force,
X-102,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick May,
LL Cool J,
Clear Light,
World's Most,
Bauhaus,
Panda Bear,
June Days,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Evens,
U.S. Maple,
Newcleus,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Graham Central Station,
Heaven 17,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Moebius,
Rufus Thomas,
Theoretical Girls,
Gong,
Sixth Finger,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ossler,
The Angels of Light,
Magazine,
Donald Byrd,
Charles Mingus,
Steve Hackett,
Eddi Front,
Howard Jones,
The Mojo Men,
Robert Hood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Negative Approach,
Babytalk,
The Slits,
Joyce Sims,
The Blackbyrds,
Donny Hathaway,
The Gun Club,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Foxx,
The Victims,
Agitation Free,
Los Fastidios,
Darondo,
Yazoo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warsaw,
Girls At Our Best!,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Toasters,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.