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 Somalia and from Paris.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb 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 Bill Wells to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
The United States of America,
Radio Birdman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Skatalites,
Nils Olav,
Mandrill,
June of 44,
The J.B.'s,
Index,
Bush Tetras,
The Move,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minnie Riperton,
The Zeros,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Names,
Groovy Waters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Five Americans,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Sherman,
Monolake,
Sällskapet,
Easy Going,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boz Scaggs,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pagans,
Delta 5,
48th St. Collective,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dead Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang Starr,
Rekid,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Swans,
Surgeon,
Subhumans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Letta Mbulu,
Organ,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fat Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Outsiders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Jawbox,
Sun City Girls,
Gong,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.