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 Jordan and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Misunderstood to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Shoche,
Radio Birdman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Saccharine Trust,
Kurtis Blow,
Warren Ellis,
Barry Ungar,
Newcleus,
Accadde A,
Thompson Twins,
The Moody Blues,
The Martian,
John Cale,
Q and Not U,
La Düsseldorf,
The Wake,
DNA,
Kaleidoscope,
Parry Music,
Theoretical Girls,
R.M.O.,
Procol Harum,
The Toasters,
Tom Boy,
Harpers Bizarre,
T. Rex,
Chris Corsano,
John Holt,
Sister Nancy,
Skriet,
Althea and Donna,
Girls At Our Best!,
Khruangbin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Young Marble Giants,
Masters at Work,
Throbbing Gristle,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rotary Connection,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Steve Hackett,
Dennis Brown,
The Remains,
The Skatalites,
UT,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lakeside,
The Residents,
Trumans Water,
Y Pants,
Minutemen,
Marine Girls,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.