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 Malawi and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rufus Thomas to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Agitation Free,
The Leaves,
The Grass Roots,
the Human League,
Deepchord,
Scrapy,
The Evens,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Man Parrish,
Eve St. Jones,
Symarip,
Amon Düül II,
The Barracudas,
The Fuzztones,
Audionom,
Bill Wells,
Ten City,
Lou Christie,
Qualms,
Swell Maps,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Cosmic Jokers,
June of 44,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eli Mardock,
Eric Copeland,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mr. Review,
The Alarm Clocks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Remains,
In Retrospect,
Theoretical Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Golliwogs,
Yaz,
Pylon,
The Stooges,
The Searchers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Khruangbin,
Lower 48,
Bobby Sherman,
Nick Fraelich,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Monks,
Al Stewart,
Freddie Wadling,
Mo-Dettes,
Alison Limerick,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dark Day,
Kaleidoscope,
Ornette Coleman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Womack,
Iggy Pop,
Bad Manners,
X-102,
The Dead C,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.