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 Finland and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Skatalites to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
T.S.O.L.,
The Skatalites,
The Martian,
Cecil Taylor,
Severed Heads,
Clear Light,
MDC,
Talk Talk,
Fatback Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Germs,
The Raincoats,
The Seeds,
Scott Walker,
H. Thieme,
FM Einheit,
The Happenings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wolf Eyes,
Nils Olav,
The Star Department,
Shuggie Otis,
Barrington Levy,
Radio Birdman,
The Real Kids,
The Fuzztones,
Q and Not U,
Bobbi Humphrey,
U.S. Maple,
Con Funk Shun,
Piero Umiliani,
Joy Division,
Shoche,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Isaac Hayes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marcia Griffiths,
X-Ray Spex,
Rhythm & Sound,
Motorama,
Hardrive,
Desert Stars,
Lungfish,
The Fugs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Anakelly,
Quantec,
Bush Tetras,
Minny Pops,
DJ Sneak,
Joe Smooth,
Rekid,
The American Breed,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Chrome,
Aswad,
Kurtis Blow,
Camouflage,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.