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 Switzerland and from Beijing.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Barrington Levy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Pole,
Max Romeo,
Arthur Verocai,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lower 48,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Robert Hood,
Black Pus,
The Litter,
The Fortunes,
a-ha,
Gichy Dan,
Zapp,
Boz Scaggs,
Amazonics,
Monks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monolake,
Cheater Slicks,
Wasted Youth,
The Barracudas,
Fad Gadget,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gil Scott Heron,
Matthew Bourne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Porter Ricks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Oblivians,
Masters at Work,
Brass Construction,
James White and The Blacks,
Roger Hodgson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Chris Corsano,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wire,
Maurizio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
48th St. Collective,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hasil Adkins,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Graham Central Station,
Bootsy Collins,
Jimmy McGriff,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dennis Brown,
Mary Jane Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Harry Pussy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yellowson,
Erykah Badu,
Visage,
Cameo,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.