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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bootsy Collins to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Con Funk Shun,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sonic Youth,
Banda Bassotti,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Anthony Braxton,
The Seeds,
the Sonics,
Hot Snakes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Agent Orange,
Crooked Eye,
Aswad,
Absolute Body Control,
The Move,
Fluxion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
UT,
Judy Mowatt,
Anakelly,
The Index,
the Soft Cell,
Spandau Ballet,
Flash Fearless,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ludus,
Clear Light,
Kurtis Blow,
The Doors,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Main Source,
Dead Boys,
Robert Görl,
Man Parrish,
The Toasters,
Neu!,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Slick Rick,
Mission of Burma,
La Düsseldorf,
Cecil Taylor,
Saccharine Trust,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Smoke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Altered Images,
Boz Scaggs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Flag,
Chris & Cosey,
Sex Pistols,
The Detroit Cobras,
Albert Ayler,
Icehouse,
David Bowie,
Lower 48,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.