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 New Zealand and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
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 synthesizer 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 Subhumans to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Sixth Finger,
The Smiths,
Kenny Larkin,
Mr. Review,
The Young Rascals,
Pantaleimon,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Sonics,
Joyce Sims,
Duran Duran,
Barclay James Harvest,
Neu!,
ABC,
Symarip,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bizarre Inc.,
Shoche,
Lower 48,
Kool Moe Dee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soul II Soul,
Metal Thangz,
Eurythmics,
The Leaves,
Icehouse,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Human League,
Cecil Taylor,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soft Machine,
Pere Ubu,
Tres Demented,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kaleidoscope,
Pharoah Sanders,
Los Fastidios,
Roger Hodgson,
Grey Daturas,
Lalann,
The Gories,
New Order,
Country Teasers,
The Fortunes,
Jacob Miller,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Velvet Underground,
Reuben Wilson,
The Moody Blues,
Don Cherry,
The Victims,
Spoonie Gee,
Michelle Simonal,
Marshall Jefferson,
Spandau Ballet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Faraquet,
Franke,
The Associates,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.