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 Saudi Arabia and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nick Fraelich to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Brothers Johnson,
The Last Poets,
Bronski Beat,
Severed Heads,
Eric B and Rakim,
B.T. Express,
Byron Stingily,
Spoonie Gee,
Qualms,
Stereo Dub,
The Kinks,
Main Source,
Johnny Osbourne,
New York Dolls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
L. Decosne,
Rotary Connection,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scientists,
Make Up,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Barracudas,
Avey Tare,
Stetsasonic,
Liliput,
The Moody Blues,
Gastr Del Sol,
K-Klass,
Lee Hazlewood,
Monks,
Archie Shepp,
Ituana,
Negative Approach,
Model 500,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Divine Comedy,
Camouflage,
Fatback Band,
Soft Machine,
Scrapy,
Wasted Youth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Tom Boy,
The J.B.'s,
Camberwell Now,
Pierre Henry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Theoretical Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants,
Ronan,
Gang Starr,
Groovy Waters,
Khruangbin,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.