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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Simply Red to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Graham Central Station,
Bill Wells,
Ponytail,
Fad Gadget,
Little Man,
The Star Department,
Clear Light,
Youth Brigade,
The Grass Roots,
Buzzcocks,
Model 500,
Robert Hood,
Harmonia,
Mr. Review,
Mission of Burma,
Khruangbin,
Stereo Dub,
Bad Manners,
The Knickerbockers,
D'Angelo,
The Monks,
Quando Quango,
Silicon Teens,
a-ha,
Gong,
Accadde A,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fugs,
Niagra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nirvana,
Donny Hathaway,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crooked Eye,
Joe Finger,
Television,
Royal Trux,
The Angels of Light,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Evens,
The Golliwogs,
Ronan,
Scan 7,
One Last Wish,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Skatalites,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Swans,
Reagan Youth,
Cheater Slicks,
Mantronix,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pierre Henry,
Bizarre Inc.,
48th St. Collective,
Wally Richardson,
The Monochrome Set,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.