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 New York.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer 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 Leaves to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Juan Atkins,
Agitation Free,
Joey Negro,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
OOIOO,
Con Funk Shun,
Blake Baxter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Delta 5,
Accadde A,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Curtis Mayfield,
Althea and Donna,
The Young Rascals,
The Black Dice,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sugar Minott,
The Golliwogs,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed,
Soul II Soul,
The Sound,
Franke,
Dawn Penn,
The Smiths,
The Real Kids,
The Doors,
Television,
Pantytec,
Suicide,
Tom Boy,
Rosa Yemen,
Roger Hodgson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Colin Newman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sight & Sound,
Roxette,
Hasil Adkins,
Urselle,
Radio Birdman,
John Lydon,
Robert Wyatt,
Robert Hood,
Stiv Bators,
Electric Prunes,
Alison Limerick,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Kinks,
David Bowie,
The Invisible,
David Axelrod,
The Grass Roots,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Oneida,
Outsiders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Camberwell Now,
Procol Harum,
Peter and Kerry,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.