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 Ireland and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Flesh Eaters to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
The Divine Comedy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Los Fastidios,
Livin' Joy,
Barrington Levy,
Black Sheep,
Grandmaster Flash,
Arthur Verocai,
Mission of Burma,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
LL Cool J,
JFA,
The Fuzztones,
Crash Course in Science,
Eden Ahbez,
Bush Tetras,
The Monks,
Ornette Coleman,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Eli Mardock,
June Days,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dead Boys,
Henry Cow,
Wolf Eyes,
Scan 7,
Mantronix,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New York Dolls,
Juan Atkins,
Gabor Szabo,
John Cale,
Bob Dylan,
The Sonics,
Kurtis Blow,
Lower 48,
The Grass Roots,
The Velvet Underground,
Minor Threat,
Sixth Finger,
The American Breed,
Magazine,
The Smoke,
Derrick Morgan,
Brand Nubian,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cluster,
Public Enemy,
Rod Modell,
Index,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mo-Dettes,
The Pop Group,
Marmalade,
Tom Boy,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.