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 Uruguay and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Porter Ricks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Pagans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Absolute Body Control,
Young Marble Giants,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kenny Larkin,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Görl,
Circle Jerks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang of Four,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
The Slits,
Rufus Thomas,
Metal Thangz,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Rundgren,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skarface,
Siglo XX,
The Fall,
Ultimate Spinach,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Leaves,
Stereo Dub,
Shuggie Otis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Index,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mr. Review,
Gregory Isaacs,
DNA,
Donny Hathaway,
Lakeside,
Severed Heads,
The Divine Comedy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Adolescents,
Dawn Penn,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Funkadelic,
The Standells,
Ten City,
Cymande,
Marine Girls,
Nils Olav,
Oblivians,
Intrusion,
The Barracudas,
Symarip,
Easy Going,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.