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 Romania and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 guitar 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 Charles Mingus to the rock 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 UT. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Warren Ellis,
Eurythmics,
Motorama,
Matthew Bourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The J.B.'s,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
The Searchers,
Tears for Fears,
Skaos,
The United States of America,
Los Fastidios,
Bob Dylan,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Main Source,
Mandrill,
The Mummies,
LL Cool J,
the Slits,
Aural Exciters,
Soulsonic Force,
Nik Kershaw,
X-Ray Spex,
Brand Nubian,
R.M.O.,
Outsiders,
Carl Craig,
The Zeros,
Scott Walker,
David Axelrod,
Steve Hackett,
Mr. Review,
Nick Fraelich,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brothers Johnson,
Echospace,
Eli Mardock,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pylon,
June of 44,
The Associates,
F. McDonald,
Wasted Youth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rakim,
Thompson Twins,
Funkadelic,
Khruangbin,
The Walker Brothers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cecil Taylor,
Zapp,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Davy DMX,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.