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 Kiribati and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Freddie Wadling to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
The Pretty Things,
Warsaw,
Jeff Lynne,
T. Rex,
Bobby Byrd,
Unwound,
AZ,
Robert Hood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bad Manners,
Grandmaster Flash,
Idris Muhammad,
Sugar Minott,
Cymande,
DJ Sneak,
Nirvana,
the Swans,
B.T. Express,
Subhumans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mo-Dettes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jesper Dahlback,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arcadia,
Negative Approach,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott Heron,
June of 44,
Chris & Cosey,
Zapp,
Spandau Ballet,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barrington Levy,
CMW,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Move,
Danielle Patucci,
Lindisfarne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Sheep,
Bluetip,
Anthony Braxton,
MDC,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fire Engines,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Erykah Badu,
Hoover,
Simply Red,
Erasure,
The Cosmic Jokers,
China Crisis,
The Golliwogs,
Altered Images,
Porter Ricks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DNA,
Minutemen,
The Last Poets,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.