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 Swaziland and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare 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 Skarface to the funk 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultra Naté,
Todd Rundgren,
Brick,
Byron Stingily,
The Kinks,
Model 500,
Angry Samoans,
Wings,
Neil Young,
Vladislav Delay,
Patti Smith,
Soulsonic Force,
Jimmy McGriff,
H. Thieme,
Saccharine Trust,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Steve Hackett,
Oneida,
Terry Callier,
Chrome,
Procol Harum,
Eric Copeland,
The Golliwogs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gories,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare,
Connie Case,
Cluster,
Sun Ra,
Brand Nubian,
Sound Behaviour,
Kurtis Blow,
Scott Walker,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Josef K,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ralphi Rosario,
Max Romeo,
Shoche,
Siglo XX,
Hoover,
Unrelated Segments,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Los Fastidios,
Pussy Galore,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Index,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Darondo,
B.T. Express,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Surgeon,
The Electric Prunes,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.