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 Gambia and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 Lou Christie to the crunk 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Qualms,
Mandrill,
Fluxion,
The Sonics,
Intrusion,
Von Mondo,
Steve Hackett,
Graham Central Station,
Alton Ellis,
Ultra Naté,
Slave,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fall,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barrington Levy,
Cluster,
Cecil Taylor,
Kayak,
Erykah Badu,
Reagan Youth,
Marmalade,
X-102,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Birthday Party,
Amon Düül,
The Slits,
Organ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alison Limerick,
The Grass Roots,
Joe Finger,
The Seeds,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Chris & Cosey,
Echospace,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fear,
Maurizio,
Don Cherry,
Procol Harum,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Cowsills,
Man Eating Sloth,
Man Parrish,
the Germs,
Harry Pussy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Darondo,
Scrapy,
Television,
Silicon Teens,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Womack,
AZ,
Monolake,
Joy Division,
World's Most,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Coltrane,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.