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 Spain and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Ituana to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Young Rascals,
the Bar-Kays,
Ossler,
Niagra,
Whodini,
Lucky Dragons,
Yazoo,
Negative Approach,
Nick Fraelich,
Icehouse,
48th St. Collective,
Pulsallama,
Fluxion,
Sandy B,
Alison Limerick,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rekid,
Bob Dylan,
Jacob Miller,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nas,
Ludus,
AZ,
Patti Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
These Immortal Souls,
Freddie Wadling,
The Selecter,
Main Source,
the Slits,
Average White Band,
Model 500,
Schoolly D,
Tres Demented,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Dead C,
June of 44,
T. Rex,
Barrington Levy,
Boz Scaggs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Roxette,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pere Ubu,
Robert Wyatt,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gap Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Index,
The Red Krayola,
Radio Birdman,
Bobby Sherman,
Stetsasonic,
The Moody Blues,
Pylon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Television Personalities,
Robert Görl,
The Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.