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 Cameroon and from Lille.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jacques Brel to the techno 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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Underground Resistance,
The New Christs,
Deakin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Basic Channel,
The United States of America,
Harry Pussy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tommy Roe,
The Pop Group,
Sex Pistols,
FM Einheit,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fuzztones,
Second Layer,
the Human League,
The Sisters of Mercy,
8 Eyed Spy,
New York Dolls,
Peter and Kerry,
Donald Byrd,
Grauzone,
Section 25,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Easy Going,
The Slackers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
Agent Orange,
Roy Ayers,
Marmalade,
Ken Boothe,
Bill Near,
Howard Jones,
Deepchord,
Radiopuhelimet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris & Cosey,
Mars,
David Bowie,
The Techniques,
Excepter,
The Golliwogs,
Pagans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
Scratch Acid,
Don Cherry,
EPMD,
Cecil Taylor,
Bob Dylan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Camouflage,
Buzzcocks,
Oneida,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeff Mills,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.