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 Costa Rica 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ice-T to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Wake,
Gang of Four,
Faraquet,
Lalann,
David Bowie,
Moebius,
The Barracudas,
In Retrospect,
Kaleidoscope,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Bar-Kays,
Sound Behaviour,
Susan Cadogan,
Isaac Hayes,
DJ Style,
Warren Ellis,
Jeff Mills,
Maurizio,
Livin' Joy,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
The Five Americans,
Todd Terry,
Parry Music,
The Young Rascals,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Vogues,
Animal Collective,
Charles Mingus,
Nirvana,
Young Marble Giants,
Kas Product,
Stiv Bators,
Fela Kuti,
Lucky Dragons,
Flipper,
Aural Exciters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
James White and The Blacks,
Siglo XX,
John Lydon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amazonics,
Slick Rick,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ludus,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eurythmics,
The Sound,
Tom Boy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Glenn Branca,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.