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 New Zealand and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe 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 John Holt to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Television,
The Leaves,
The Red Krayola,
Second Layer,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dark Day,
Mr. Review,
Schoolly D,
Depeche Mode,
The Fall,
Max Romeo,
Carl Craig,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Slave,
the Swans,
Godley & Creme,
Lou Christie,
10cc,
Scion,
Danielle Patucci,
Avey Tare,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rotary Connection,
Gang Starr,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pop Group,
Deadbeat,
John Coltrane,
Hasil Adkins,
Aaron Thompson,
Rod Modell,
Intrusion,
Mantronix,
Beasts of Bourbon,
a-ha,
Robert Görl,
The Raincoats,
Q65,
The Happenings,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
LL Cool J,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gastr Del Sol,
New York Dolls,
Barrington Levy,
Wolf Eyes,
Spoonie Gee,
Adolescents,
A Certain Ratio,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Simply Red,
Brass Construction,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.