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 Mongolia and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 rhodes 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 Judy Mowatt to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Quando Quango,
The Monks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oneida,
Lightning Bolt,
Yellowson,
Lyres,
Janne Schatter,
Hardrive,
Dead Boys,
Blake Baxter,
Albert Ayler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Freddie Wadling,
Shuggie Otis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Smog,
D'Angelo,
The Gories,
Bauhaus,
Fat Boys,
Mr. Review,
Robert Wyatt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Half Japanese,
Ash Ra Tempel,
cv313,
Sight & Sound,
The Vogues,
Tubeway Army,
The New Christs,
Ultravox,
Television,
Nils Olav,
Echospace,
The Star Department,
Wasted Youth,
Magma,
Magazine,
Gang Green,
Avey Tare,
Camberwell Now,
Bronski Beat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deepchord,
Grauzone,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joey Negro,
Rufus Thomas,
Isaac Hayes,
Robert Görl,
ABBA,
Eden Ahbez,
Youth Brigade,
Kaleidoscope,
Roy Ayers,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.