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 Samoa and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sight & Sound to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Rod Modell,
Wally Richardson,
Eric Dolphy,
Laurel Aitken,
Grauzone,
Pussy Galore,
Camberwell Now,
Bootsy Collins,
Andrew Hill,
The New Christs,
Reuben Wilson,
The Grass Roots,
Nik Kershaw,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Gories,
Hoover,
Sexual Harrassment,
Duran Duran,
The Star Department,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rotary Connection,
Circle Jerks,
The Pretty Things,
Quadrant,
Kerri Chandler,
Harpers Bizarre,
Q65,
The Detroit Cobras,
Letta Mbulu,
Blossom Toes,
The Electric Prunes,
AZ,
Heaven 17,
Soul II Soul,
Clear Light,
Slick Rick,
a-ha,
Spandau Ballet,
Godley & Creme,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Arab on Radar,
The Knickerbockers,
DJ Sneak,
Malaria!,
Adolescents,
Model 500,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brothers Johnson,
Robert Hood,
Morten Harket,
Rapeman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minor Threat,
Flamin' Groovies,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Loose Ends,
Ludus,
The Blackbyrds,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.