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 Tajikistan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 Grey Daturas to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
ABC,
Agitation Free,
Fela Kuti,
Steve Hackett,
Delta 5,
Motorama,
The Human League,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Massinfluence,
the Germs,
Roxy Music,
Unrelated Segments,
Patti Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Offenders,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Theoretical Girls,
Nas,
Yellowson,
The Star Department,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tubeway Army,
Magma,
Donald Byrd,
Youth Brigade,
John Foxx,
Ponytail,
Porter Ricks,
Dawn Penn,
Camberwell Now,
Ultra Naté,
Ronnie Foster,
Vainqueur,
Ossler,
Alphaville,
OOIOO,
Tres Demented,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minor Threat,
Sällskapet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joensuu 1685,
Henry Cow,
Big Daddy Kane,
Essential Logic,
Reagan Youth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Prince Buster,
Heaven 17,
Hoover,
One Last Wish,
Sugar Minott,
Make Up,
Amon Düül,
James Chance & The Contortions,
L. Decosne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.