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 Swaziland and from Columbus.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin 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 Newcleus to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Aural Exciters,
Deepchord,
Adolescents,
Index,
Jesper Dahlback,
Talk Talk,
Slick Rick,
Camberwell Now,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Isaac Hayes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Real Kids,
Silicon Teens,
Erykah Badu,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deadbeat,
Arab on Radar,
Barclay James Harvest,
OOIOO,
Das Ding,
The Gladiators,
Vainqueur,
The Angels of Light,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hashim,
The Moody Blues,
Outsiders,
These Immortal Souls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cramps,
Howard Jones,
Wasted Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Moleskins,
Bobby Sherman,
The Trojans,
La Düsseldorf,
The Zeros,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hot Snakes,
The New Christs,
Ornette Coleman,
Pussy Galore,
Marvin Gaye,
X-101,
Roxy Music,
The Golliwogs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Buzzcocks,
Crooked Eye,
Mars,
Black Moon,
Schoolly D,
Essential Logic,
The Monks,
FM Einheit,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.