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 Montenegro and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 June Days to the dance 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
EPMD,
Tears for Fears,
Au Pairs,
The Busters,
The Beau Brummels,
Minny Pops,
The Gories,
Bronski Beat,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Avey Tare,
Arcadia,
The Trojans,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Tomorrow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Inner City,
Pussy Galore,
Don Cherry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wings,
Moss Icon,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kaleidoscope,
The Residents,
David McCallum,
Bobby Byrd,
Soul Sonic Force,
The New Christs,
LL Cool J,
R.M.O.,
Banda Bassotti,
Roxette,
The Smoke,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minutemen,
Pulsallama,
Interpol,
Quantec,
Matthew Halsall,
Henry Cow,
Ludus,
Television Personalities,
The Martian,
DNA,
Davy DMX,
Bluetip,
Mantronix,
John Coltrane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Peter and Kerry,
The Blackbyrds,
Second Layer,
Porter Ricks,
Scott Walker,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The J.B.'s,
Sound Behaviour,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.