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 Guyana and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Darondo to the dance 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Morten Harket,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moss Icon,
Sexual Harrassment,
James White and The Blacks,
Pantytec,
Monolake,
Banda Bassotti,
The Slits,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yusef Lateef,
Oneida,
Juan Atkins,
Sugar Minott,
Magazine,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barclay James Harvest,
Godley & Creme,
Avey Tare,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eli Mardock,
Rod Modell,
10cc,
Aswad,
Rekid,
Lindisfarne,
48th St. Collective,
Subhumans,
Bang On A Can,
Black Flag,
the Slits,
Magma,
Max Romeo,
John Holt,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Simply Red,
Todd Terry,
DNA,
Severed Heads,
Wolf Eyes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Trumans Water,
Bootsy Collins,
Neil Young,
The Beau Brummels,
MDC,
Black Bananas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Von Mondo,
Toni Rubio,
Khruangbin,
Underground Resistance,
Average White Band,
E-Dancer,
The Human League,
Lebanon Hanover,
Zero Boys,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.