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 Luxembourg 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
David Bowie,
Jacques Brel,
The Skatalites,
Symarip,
The Grass Roots,
Heaven 17,
Judy Mowatt,
Interpol,
Spandau Ballet,
Hoover,
Roxy Music,
Hasil Adkins,
The Flesh Eaters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Walker Brothers,
the Sonics,
Stiv Bators,
Slave,
Bobby Sherman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cowsills,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Divine Comedy,
Section 25,
The Neon Judgement,
Deadbeat,
Roxette,
Cameo,
Prince Buster,
Wally Richardson,
Max Romeo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Josef K,
Hot Snakes,
The Real Kids,
Pagans,
Monks,
The Blackbyrds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rosa Yemen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Associates,
Soulsonic Force,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
T. Rex,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flash Fearless,
AZ,
Sonic Youth,
The Human League,
David Axelrod,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wasted Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Misunderstood,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.