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 Japan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the punk 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Anakelly,
Howard Jones,
Jacques Brel,
Leonard Cohen,
Underground Resistance,
Pylon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
CMW,
Maleditus Sound,
Guru Guru,
The Fire Engines,
Fatback Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crooked Eye,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Spoonie Gee,
Cecil Taylor,
Rekid,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Hood,
The Red Krayola,
The Dead C,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Germs,
Joy Division,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Swans,
Agitation Free,
Colin Newman,
Pulsallama,
Johnny Clarke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barry Ungar,
This Heat,
Pagans,
Pole,
Roy Ayers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Ponytail,
Country Teasers,
The Motions,
Jeff Lynne,
The Music Machine,
Quantec,
Monolake,
Model 500,
Cymande,
The Gladiators,
Ultravox,
Dennis Brown,
Second Layer,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mark Hollis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quando Quango,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.