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 Tanzania and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes 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 Radiohead to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
The Golliwogs,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche,
the Soft Cell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Warren Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
The Blues Magoos,
The Toasters,
Monks,
Nick Fraelich,
Rufus Thomas,
Pantaleimon,
Tom Boy,
Camouflage,
Mantronix,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Star Department,
Cameo,
The Slits,
Livin' Joy,
The Blackbyrds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Yazoo,
Idris Muhammad,
The Velvet Underground,
L. Decosne,
The Index,
Roxette,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Andrew Hill,
The United States of America,
Procol Harum,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terrestrial Tones,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultravox,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
This Heat,
Marvin Gaye,
Cymande,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Saints,
The Offenders,
Desert Stars,
AZ,
Bronski Beat,
Zero Boys,
New York Dolls,
Au Pairs,
Little Man,
Ituana,
Negative Approach,
Peter and Kerry,
PIL,
Soul II Soul,
Erykah Badu,
Schoolly D,
R.M.O.,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.