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 Palau 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Wasted Youth to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Fela Kuti,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scrapy,
Supertramp,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Carl Craig,
The Music Machine,
Siglo XX,
Metal Thangz,
L. Decosne,
Cheater Slicks,
The Durutti Column,
the Human League,
Eddi Front,
The Young Rascals,
Minor Threat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Erykah Badu,
John Coltrane,
Theoretical Girls,
The Wake,
The Mummies,
X-Ray Spex,
Soul Sonic Force,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Misunderstood,
Soft Machine,
Hot Snakes,
Fugazi,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barrington Levy,
Saccharine Trust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nils Olav,
Wings,
David McCallum,
Laurel Aitken,
Dual Sessions,
The Smiths,
The Modern Lovers,
Grey Daturas,
Zero Boys,
Black Pus,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang of Four,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rosa Yemen,
Joyce Sims,
Jacques Brel,
Niagra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bill Wells,
Das Ding,
KRS-One,
The Flesh Eaters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Leonard Cohen,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.