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 Bhutan and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Standells to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Maurizio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Supertramp,
Warren Ellis,
Youth Brigade,
K-Klass,
Don Cherry,
Shoche,
Von Mondo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Los Fastidios,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Stetsasonic,
Television,
The Angels of Light,
Carl Craig,
The Litter,
Hot Snakes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Interpol,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Quantec,
Matthew Bourne,
Jeff Lynne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
cv313,
Donald Byrd,
X-102,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Junior Murvin,
The Smiths,
KRS-One,
Bobby Womack,
Tom Boy,
Reagan Youth,
Juan Atkins,
Eric Dolphy,
Peter & Gordon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sandy B,
F. McDonald,
Shuggie Otis,
Intrusion,
Babytalk,
Barbara Tucker,
Y Pants,
Scrapy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scientists,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang Starr,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.