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 Argentina and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 Aswad to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Audionom,
Q65,
Frankie Knuckles,
Half Japanese,
Henry Cow,
Glenn Branca,
Ossler,
Technova,
Monks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pulsallama,
The Dave Clark Five,
ABBA,
Supertramp,
The Saints,
The New Christs,
Second Layer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Whodini,
Infiniti,
Malaria!,
Wasted Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Dawn Penn,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Television,
Cecil Taylor,
Wolf Eyes,
New York Dolls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Matthew Halsall,
The Gladiators,
Sandy B,
Dave Gahan,
Severed Heads,
Robert Wyatt,
The Residents,
The Beau Brummels,
the Sonics,
The J.B.'s,
Radiohead,
Isaac Hayes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Minor Threat,
Khruangbin,
Charles Mingus,
Nils Olav,
The Zeros,
Pole,
Black Bananas,
The Smoke,
Toni Rubio,
Section 25,
Dark Day,
David McCallum,
Hoover,
Derrick Morgan,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott Heron,
Parry Music,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.