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 Guyana and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
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 linndrum 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Fear,
Aswad,
The Dave Clark Five,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Martian,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pharoah Sanders,
Yusef Lateef,
Blake Baxter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nirvana,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Davy DMX,
The Five Americans,
Dawn Penn,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barry Ungar,
Intrusion,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lakeside,
It's A Beautiful Day,
New York Dolls,
Donny Hathaway,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Altered Images,
Quantec,
Jeru the Damaja,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gil Scott Heron,
Duran Duran,
Lee Hazlewood,
Magma,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
Audionom,
Smog,
Brothers Johnson,
Lower 48,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Sound,
John Holt,
Average White Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
World's Most,
Joe Finger,
Al Stewart,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Schoolly D,
Hoover,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Cramps,
Main Source,
The Selecter,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.