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 Uzbekistan and from London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Motorama to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Godley & Creme,
Funky Four + One,
The Smiths,
Sex Pistols,
The Moleskins,
Dark Day,
Nils Olav,
MDC,
Subhumans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Excepter,
The Associates,
The Young Rascals,
In Retrospect,
H. Thieme,
The Techniques,
Fela Kuti,
Suicide,
Monks,
The Blues Magoos,
Television,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
10cc,
Ronnie Foster,
PIL,
L. Decosne,
Inner City,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Move,
Stetsasonic,
New Order,
David Bowie,
The Litter,
Scratch Acid,
Flipper,
Junior Murvin,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Sheep,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fatback Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Aaron Thompson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kurtis Blow,
Judy Mowatt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yaz,
Essential Logic,
Organ,
Hashim,
Pharoah Sanders,
Quantec,
Albert Ayler,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gabor Szabo,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.