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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scrapy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Matthew Halsall,
Joe Finger,
Japan,
Harmonia,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pole,
Rapeman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Echospace,
John Lydon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Danielle Patucci,
Angry Samoans,
Gabor Szabo,
Jimmy McGriff,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Moody Blues,
Desert Stars,
Tears for Fears,
Funkadelic,
Minny Pops,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sixth Finger,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Maurizio,
Radiohead,
Quando Quango,
Theoretical Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
The Mojo Men,
Television Personalities,
Kerri Chandler,
Maleditus Sound,
The American Breed,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Symarip,
a-ha,
Slave,
The Mummies,
Siglo XX,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moebius,
48th St. Collective,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moby Grape,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Patti Smith,
Henry Cow,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rufus Thomas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantaleimon,
Audionom,
The Gories,
Ultravox,
Absolute Body Control,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.