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 Eritrea and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bizarre Inc. to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Flipper,
The Mummies,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minutemen,
Surgeon,
Eli Mardock,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Judy Mowatt,
Carl Craig,
Ronan,
The Techniques,
Anakelly,
Moss Icon,
Negative Approach,
Section 25,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Doobie Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Scott Walker,
Toni Rubio,
Skriet,
Ice-T,
kango's stein massive,
X-101,
Wire,
Joy Division,
Gichy Dan,
The Seeds,
48th St. Collective,
Von Mondo,
Interpol,
Isaac Hayes,
The Move,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeff Lynne,
The Busters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Little Man,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Christie,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Accadde A,
The J.B.'s,
Harpers Bizarre,
Banda Bassotti,
Saccharine Trust,
Wally Richardson,
Ituana,
The Saints,
Stiv Bators,
Graham Central Station,
The Fire Engines,
Sandy B,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marc Almond,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.