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 Vanuatu and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Holger Czukay 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 Negative Approach to the disco 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Faust,
Henry Cow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Laurel Aitken,
Tomorrow,
the Human League,
Schoolly D,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Doors,
Liliput,
Minny Pops,
Albert Ayler,
John Lydon,
Marvin Gaye,
The Gun Club,
Toni Rubio,
Silicon Teens,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pylon,
Fela Kuti,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scientists,
The Knickerbockers,
Aaron Thompson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fugazi,
Section 25,
Groovy Waters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Visage,
Anthony Braxton,
Malaria!,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marine Girls,
Massinfluence,
Adolescents,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monolake,
Cal Tjader,
Freddie Wadling,
Agent Orange,
New Age Steppers,
Ohio Players,
The Pretty Things,
Jacob Miller,
Television Personalities,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Ultra Naté,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.