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 Fiji and from Delhi.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Divine Comedy to the punk 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Gabor Szabo,
Bauhaus,
Amazonics,
Black Moon,
Fatback Band,
Brass Construction,
Fad Gadget,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arthur Verocai,
Smog,
Jacques Brel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lakeside,
Crash Course in Science,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barrington Levy,
Bobby Sherman,
Dead Boys,
Hashim,
The Electric Prunes,
Roxette,
The Black Dice,
Sonic Youth,
The Index,
The Barracudas,
Pulsallama,
Swell Maps,
Sight & Sound,
Al Stewart,
Easy Going,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ken Boothe,
Half Japanese,
The Victims,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gastr Del Sol,
This Heat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Con Funk Shun,
Y Pants,
Unrelated Segments,
Whodini,
Jeff Lynne,
Throbbing Gristle,
Franke,
Barbara Tucker,
Isaac Hayes,
In Retrospect,
D'Angelo,
Bronski Beat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Real Kids,
Rufus Thomas,
Aural Exciters,
Faraquet,
Yazoo,
Siglo XX,
The Fortunes,
Lou Christie,
Massinfluence,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.