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 Kazakhstan and from Paris.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ 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 Bizarre Inc. 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
The Sonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Velvet Underground,
Au Pairs,
Pere Ubu,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultravox,
The Move,
Grey Daturas,
Intrusion,
The United States of America,
Oblivians,
the Swans,
Alison Limerick,
X-Ray Spex,
Joe Smooth,
Young Marble Giants,
Desert Stars,
The Evens,
The Index,
Marmalade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scott Walker,
Sixth Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Soft Cell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Count Five,
Gong,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camberwell Now,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Selecter,
Pussy Galore,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sam Rivers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tears for Fears,
Dennis Brown,
Yaz,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Silicon Teens,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Talk Talk,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jeff Lynne,
Jawbox,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Searchers,
Roger Hodgson,
Funky Four + One,
The Music Machine,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Finger,
MC5,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Gun Club,
Al Stewart,
Faraquet,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.