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 Dominican Republic and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Country Teasers to the jazz 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Bobby Byrd,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
La Düsseldorf,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Mojo Men,
Moby Grape,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Moleskins,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Inner City,
The Raincoats,
The Saints,
Cal Tjader,
The Slackers,
UT,
Los Fastidios,
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Smiths,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Lydon,
Saccharine Trust,
Swans,
Bob Dylan,
Scott Walker,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eddi Front,
Minny Pops,
Marc Almond,
FM Einheit,
Johnny Osbourne,
Josef K,
Bronski Beat,
Basic Channel,
Nirvana,
Second Layer,
Sound Behaviour,
Zero Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DJ Sneak,
These Immortal Souls,
Scan 7,
The Standells,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fuzztones,
The Happenings,
Sun City Girls,
Marine Girls,
a-ha,
Jacob Miller,
The Slits,
Dawn Penn,
R.M.O.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Con Funk Shun,
Average White Band,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.