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 Turkmenistan and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Boredoms to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
Erasure,
Terry Callier,
Rotary Connection,
Mandrill,
PIL,
Agent Orange,
Kas Product,
The Saints,
The Mummies,
Cheater Slicks,
Boredoms,
Wally Richardson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Niagra,
James Chance & The Contortions,
David McCallum,
Desert Stars,
Tears for Fears,
Tom Boy,
Fear,
a-ha,
Blake Baxter,
Harry Pussy,
Metal Thangz,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Association,
Organ,
Judy Mowatt,
Monks,
Robert Wyatt,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Residents,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stiv Bators,
The J.B.'s,
Young Marble Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cure,
Sixth Finger,
Bang On A Can,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Duran Duran,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Names,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sight & Sound,
Dawn Penn,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Talk Talk,
The Angels of Light,
Isaac Hayes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joy Division,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fugs,
Donny Hathaway,
Amon Düül II,
LL Cool J,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.