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 Bremen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Rapeman to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Bizarre Inc.,
Flipper,
Scan 7,
Harry Pussy,
U.S. Maple,
Symarip,
Scrapy,
Mark Hollis,
John Cale,
Erykah Badu,
Desert Stars,
Suicide,
Prince Buster,
This Heat,
The Busters,
The Real Kids,
Kayak,
Kerrie Biddell,
Johnny Clarke,
Ten City,
Visage,
Nick Fraelich,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Trumans Water,
Neil Young,
Surgeon,
Minny Pops,
Pulsallama,
Yaz,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stiv Bators,
E-Dancer,
Mantronix,
Freddie Wadling,
Quantec,
The Fall,
a-ha,
Barrington Levy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marvin Gaye,
Babytalk,
David Bowie,
Robert Wyatt,
Nils Olav,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Heaven 17,
Hasil Adkins,
Thompson Twins,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cowsills,
Susan Cadogan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Royal Trux,
Section 25,
Duran Duran,
Hashim,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.