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 Honduras and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Cairo.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Blues Magoos to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Zapp,
Cybotron,
Minny Pops,
Grey Daturas,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crash Course in Science,
Gabor Szabo,
Barrington Levy,
The Young Rascals,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cure,
Guru Guru,
Rapeman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Al Stewart,
Spandau Ballet,
Khruangbin,
The Gun Club,
Au Pairs,
Scott Walker,
Hoover,
Josef K,
Radiohead,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gories,
Dawn Penn,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marine Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Iggy Pop,
Tres Demented,
Television,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Inner City,
Graham Central Station,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pulsallama,
Infiniti,
D'Angelo,
Pet Shop Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
Index,
Junior Murvin,
DJ Sneak,
Moby Grape,
The Buckinghams,
Mo-Dettes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Cale,
the Soft Cell,
The Red Krayola,
Oblivians,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.