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 St Lucia and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Barrington Levy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Brick,
Model 500,
Trumans Water,
Man Parrish,
Tommy Roe,
Scrapy,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Litter,
Sarah Menescal,
Brand Nubian,
The Residents,
Babytalk,
Bush Tetras,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Human League,
Brass Construction,
Flipper,
The Monks,
DJ Sneak,
Gabor Szabo,
Quadrant,
Symarip,
Sun Ra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Arthur Verocai,
Section 25,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
EPMD,
Vladislav Delay,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crime,
Cymande,
Robert Wyatt,
D'Angelo,
Aloha Tigers,
The Skatalites,
Magma,
Vainqueur,
cv313,
Carl Craig,
Frankie Knuckles,
Neu!,
Kevin Saunderson,
Niagra,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Görl,
Con Funk Shun,
The Durutti Column,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wasted Youth,
Joy Division,
Unrelated Segments,
The Moody Blues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Second Layer,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nico,
Juan Atkins,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.