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 Djibouti and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Television Personalities to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
D'Angelo,
Groovy Waters,
Franke,
The Martian,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dave Gahan,
Heaven 17,
Altered Images,
Zapp,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brand Nubian,
Cybotron,
La Düsseldorf,
Second Layer,
H. Thieme,
China Crisis,
Fugazi,
U.S. Maple,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
Ponytail,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stetsasonic,
Echospace,
The J.B.'s,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gong,
Visage,
New Age Steppers,
Brick,
Spandau Ballet,
Minny Pops,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Joe Smooth,
The Vogues,
The Offenders,
Cymande,
MC5,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Association,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobby Womack,
Inner City,
Bill Wells,
The Toasters,
June Days,
Excepter,
Harmonia,
Soulsonic Force,
Icehouse,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Move,
Albert Ayler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sight & Sound,
Ken Boothe,
The Gladiators,
Rakim,
The Techniques,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.