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 St Lucia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Brick,
Todd Terry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Albert Ayler,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radio Birdman,
Cheater Slicks,
AZ,
Prince Buster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Angry Samoans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Flamin' Groovies,
Qualms,
Pagans,
Popol Vuh,
Unwound,
Thee Headcoats,
Sandy B,
Von Mondo,
The Stooges,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scion,
Camouflage,
Roxy Music,
These Immortal Souls,
The Martian,
Steve Hackett,
Agitation Free,
The Young Rascals,
The Angels of Light,
FM Einheit,
Sonic Youth,
Ken Boothe,
Ronnie Foster,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nik Kershaw,
Minor Threat,
Maurizio,
Chrome,
Bob Dylan,
Soul II Soul,
Dual Sessions,
The Monochrome Set,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Country Teasers,
The Searchers,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sam Rivers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stiv Bators,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Avey Tare,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.