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 Uzbekistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crispian St. Peters to the dance 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Connie Case,
Robert Wyatt,
The Knickerbockers,
Nick Fraelich,
Barrington Levy,
Lindisfarne,
Von Mondo,
The Fire Engines,
Piero Umiliani,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dark Day,
Surgeon,
Amon Düül II,
Slick Rick,
Fatback Band,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Reed,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sister Nancy,
Inner City,
The Sonics,
Swell Maps,
UT,
Lightning Bolt,
Alphaville,
Y Pants,
Magma,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bush Tetras,
Cabaret Voltaire,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Stiv Bators,
Yusef Lateef,
Can,
Nils Olav,
CMW,
Make Up,
Mad Mike,
Ornette Coleman,
The Blackbyrds,
Wings,
Erasure,
John Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacob Miller,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fugs,
Arthur Verocai,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Unwound,
Crime,
The Martian,
Alison Limerick,
Matthew Bourne,
The Misunderstood,
Bob Dylan,
Malaria!,
Aural Exciters,
L. Decosne,
Colin Newman,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.