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 Ivory Coast and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin 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 Basic Channel to the grime 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
The Wake,
The Victims,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Zapp,
Con Funk Shun,
Dual Sessions,
Morten Harket,
Rosa Yemen,
Sugar Minott,
F. McDonald,
Lungfish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pagans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Newcleus,
Underground Resistance,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Raincoats,
Charles Mingus,
John Cale,
Dark Day,
The Sonics,
cv313,
Cybotron,
Gang Gang Dance,
One Last Wish,
Qualms,
Pussy Galore,
Marmalade,
The Modern Lovers,
The Index,
Kaleidoscope,
The Invisible,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joy Division,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Bananas,
The Offenders,
The Mummies,
Skarface,
Pierre Henry,
Susan Cadogan,
Schoolly D,
Black Flag,
Robert Hood,
The Busters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Association,
Bill Near,
In Retrospect,
Q and Not U,
Tomorrow,
The Grass Roots,
X-102,
Chrome,
Alphaville,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.