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 Estonia and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 D'Angelo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bauhaus,
FM Einheit,
Lou Christie,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Moebius,
The New Christs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sparks,
New Order,
Minutemen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fortunes,
The Wake,
Fad Gadget,
Spoonie Gee,
Organ,
Susan Cadogan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crime,
The Victims,
Suicide,
Sällskapet,
Simply Red,
The United States of America,
Camberwell Now,
The Misunderstood,
Yaz,
Roxette,
Derrick May,
Lee Hazlewood,
Loose Ends,
Malaria!,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wings,
Pylon,
D'Angelo,
Arthur Verocai,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
This Heat,
Television,
Sugar Minott,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Slits,
The Music Machine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Delta 5,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Can,
Pere Ubu,
Marvin Gaye,
Rites of Spring,
Tres Demented,
Make Up,
New York Dolls,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Stooges,
Hashim,
The Gap Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.