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 Uganda 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 United States of America to the grunge 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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
ABBA,
Susan Cadogan,
Pagans,
Animal Collective,
The Names,
the Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Lalann,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Cale,
Terry Callier,
Gang of Four,
Ohio Players,
OOIOO,
These Immortal Souls,
Roxette,
Panda Bear,
Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Todd Rundgren,
Ronnie Foster,
CMW,
Jacob Miller,
Wasted Youth,
Lower 48,
Sixth Finger,
Crooked Eye,
Underground Resistance,
Joe Smooth,
the Swans,
Tim Buckley,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scrapy,
Porter Ricks,
Moby Grape,
Letta Mbulu,
Arthur Verocai,
The Tremeloes,
Bootsy Collins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mad Mike,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Zero Boys,
The Mummies,
Y Pants,
X-Ray Spex,
Television,
The Blues Magoos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The American Breed,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Absolute Body Control,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brick,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rotary Connection,
La Düsseldorf,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Young Rascals,
Nas,
Faraquet,
Todd Terry,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.