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 Liechtenstein and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 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 Kayak to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Popol Vuh,
Lou Reed,
Glenn Branca,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott Heron,
Porter Ricks,
Brand Nubian,
The Dead C,
Jeru the Damaja,
48th St. Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
Talk Talk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warsaw,
Maurizio,
The Tremeloes,
L. Decosne,
Black Flag,
Adolescents,
Theoretical Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Starr,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxy Music,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Erasure,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amon Düül,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Görl,
K-Klass,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Bananas,
DNA,
Marshall Jefferson,
Youth Brigade,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sparks,
Sarah Menescal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Neil Young,
Sugar Minott,
The Skatalites,
Colin Newman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Moebius,
Derrick May,
The Five Americans,
The Gun Club,
Shuggie Otis,
The Move,
Guru Guru,
Essential Logic,
Danielle Patucci,
the Sonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.