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 United States and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Erykah Badu to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Kenny Larkin,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang of Four,
Audionom,
MDC,
The Detroit Cobras,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Byrd,
The Remains,
The Monochrome Set,
Cymande,
the Normal,
Ornette Coleman,
Soft Machine,
X-102,
OOIOO,
Intrusion,
Fatback Band,
The Pretty Things,
The Cowsills,
the Association,
Wally Richardson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crime,
Byron Stingily,
Radiohead,
The Move,
Quantec,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ludus,
Mission of Burma,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Connie Case,
Black Flag,
B.T. Express,
Television Personalities,
Aural Exciters,
Lightning Bolt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ponytail,
Steve Hackett,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mandrill,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Isaac Hayes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Copeland,
The Stooges,
Brick,
Das Ding,
The Slackers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marvin Gaye,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.