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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the funk 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Barry Ungar,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Godley & Creme,
Monolake,
the Association,
Amazonics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Count Five,
Little Man,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sugar Minott,
Glenn Branca,
Andrew Hill,
The Busters,
Altered Images,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Offenders,
Main Source,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
PIL,
Erykah Badu,
JFA,
ABBA,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric B and Rakim,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Television,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Hood,
Oneida,
Iggy Pop,
Quantec,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Christie,
the Human League,
Henry Cow,
Donny Hathaway,
Japan,
the Swans,
Bluetip,
Boz Scaggs,
Wolf Eyes,
Deepchord,
Drexciya,
Eddi Front,
Sarah Menescal,
Trumans Water,
Kenny Larkin,
Smog,
Marvin Gaye,
The Sound,
Thompson Twins,
CMW,
Aswad,
Warren Ellis,
This Heat,
Dave Gahan,
Yusef Lateef,
New York Dolls,
Boredoms,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.