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 Zambia and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bluetip to the grime 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Litter,
Severed Heads,
DNA,
the Normal,
B.T. Express,
Wasted Youth,
Scratch Acid,
Darondo,
Minutemen,
X-101,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rakim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Silicon Teens,
Whodini,
Stockholm Monsters,
a-ha,
Robert Görl,
Aural Exciters,
Albert Ayler,
Radiohead,
Tres Demented,
Todd Rundgren,
Bush Tetras,
Alphaville,
The Cowsills,
China Crisis,
The Remains,
Subhumans,
The Martian,
The Mojo Men,
James White and The Blacks,
KRS-One,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roger Hodgson,
Maurizio,
Y Pants,
Desert Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dead Boys,
Prince Buster,
Pierre Henry,
Angry Samoans,
Cal Tjader,
Isaac Hayes,
Drexciya,
Dark Day,
Newcleus,
Brick,
Half Japanese,
cv313,
Icehouse,
Connie Case,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Tremeloes,
The Divine Comedy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Juan Atkins,
New Age Steppers,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Sherman,
The Toasters,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.