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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Litter to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ice-T,
Fluxion,
Japan,
John Cale,
Jerry's Kids,
Gerry Rafferty,
Janne Schatter,
Todd Terry,
Aswad,
MC5,
Deepchord,
The Red Krayola,
Wings,
Lindisfarne,
The Buckinghams,
The Modern Lovers,
Thompson Twins,
Newcleus,
Funkadelic,
Anthony Braxton,
Scientists,
Gil Scott Heron,
Absolute Body Control,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Donald Byrd,
Depeche Mode,
Nick Fraelich,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C,
Radio Birdman,
Blake Baxter,
Tomorrow,
Make Up,
Yazoo,
The Last Poets,
Tommy Roe,
The J.B.'s,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jandek,
The Birthday Party,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eric B and Rakim,
Donny Hathaway,
Amazonics,
Ronan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Vogues,
Adolescents,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Busters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Darondo,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Letta Mbulu,
Qualms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Accadde A,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.