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 Denmark and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes 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 the Soft Cell to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sparks,
the Slits,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Camberwell Now,
Agitation Free,
Iggy Pop,
ABC,
The Victims,
Joe Finger,
Pole,
Warren Ellis,
Skaos,
Metal Thangz,
The Electric Prunes,
Mr. Review,
Ossler,
Rites of Spring,
Althea and Donna,
Supertramp,
Urselle,
Brand Nubian,
Gregory Isaacs,
Yazoo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Neon Judgement,
Dark Day,
Model 500,
The Blackbyrds,
U.S. Maple,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
8 Eyed Spy,
Patti Smith,
Fad Gadget,
10cc,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Move,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Los Fastidios,
Funkadelic,
Loose Ends,
The Kinks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Bananas,
Todd Terry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Little Man,
Blake Baxter,
Brothers Johnson,
Heaven 17,
Tubeway Army,
Fatback Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Ornette Coleman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Isaac Hayes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.