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 Uruguay and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
The Black Dice,
These Immortal Souls,
Rakim,
Avey Tare,
The Young Rascals,
U.S. Maple,
Mark Hollis,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Josef K,
The Dirtbombs,
Skriet,
Amazonics,
Supertramp,
Tommy Roe,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Divine Comedy,
Pole,
Grey Daturas,
In Retrospect,
Deepchord,
Skaos,
Janne Schatter,
Guru Guru,
Mo-Dettes,
Alice Coltrane,
Aswad,
Con Funk Shun,
Von Mondo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dawn Penn,
Oblivians,
Pantytec,
Brothers Johnson,
Royal Trux,
Bluetip,
Althea and Donna,
Tubeway Army,
Minutemen,
AZ,
Clear Light,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Slackers,
Byron Stingily,
Public Image Ltd.,
ABBA,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Underground Resistance,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Angels of Light,
Smog,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Roxy Music,
Colin Newman,
Lou Christie,
The Techniques,
The United States of America,
Marc Almond,
Boogie Down Productions,
Massinfluence,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang Starr,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.