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 Kazakhstan and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
The Golliwogs,
Bush Tetras,
The Selecter,
The Blackbyrds,
The Grass Roots,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rod Modell,
Monks,
The Happenings,
Monolake,
Neu!,
Suburban Knight,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Toni Rubio,
Johnny Clarke,
Lindisfarne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bill Near,
Vainqueur,
Skarface,
Reagan Youth,
Tim Buckley,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Idris Muhammad,
Joey Negro,
Rapeman,
The Victims,
The Cowsills,
June of 44,
Minnie Riperton,
The Gories,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smoke,
Funky Four + One,
The Shadows of Knight,
Electric Prunes,
Yaz,
a-ha,
Prince Buster,
Agent Orange,
Yellowson,
Ohio Players,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sound,
Bang On A Can,
Eli Mardock,
the Germs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Matthew Bourne,
Carl Craig,
Thee Headcoats,
Tom Boy,
The United States of America,
Cameo,
the Swans,
Gang Green,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.