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 Nicaragua and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Gil Scott Heron to the grime 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols 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?
Oblivians,
Neil Young,
The United States of America,
Talk Talk,
DJ Sneak,
The Fall,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marmalade,
Sex Pistols,
Warsaw,
Susan Cadogan,
Circle Jerks,
Massinfluence,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Remains,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric Copeland,
Maleditus Sound,
Suicide,
Franke,
U.S. Maple,
Barry Ungar,
Gang of Four,
Quadrant,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Music Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
The Doors,
Goldenarms,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Little Man,
Joy Division,
Motorama,
Eddi Front,
PIL,
The Seeds,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Royal Trux,
Desert Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Groovy Waters,
Lindisfarne,
Slick Rick,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun City Girls,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rites of Spring,
Minutemen,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Smiths,
Yellowson,
Lungfish,
Tres Demented,
Kevin Saunderson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Reuben Wilson,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.