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 Gambia and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 Tears for Fears to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Josef K,
Colin Newman,
Robert Görl,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joe Smooth,
Ossler,
Gang Starr,
Amon Düül,
Michelle Simonal,
Accadde A,
Sun City Girls,
Mantronix,
Kurtis Blow,
Niagra,
Derrick Morgan,
Pantaleimon,
Hot Snakes,
Yellowson,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Victims,
Spoonie Gee,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Magazine,
The Gun Club,
The Moleskins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Adolescents,
The Barracudas,
Davy DMX,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Raincoats,
the Sonics,
Cluster,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
JFA,
MDC,
Ken Boothe,
The Toasters,
The Selecter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dennis Brown,
Bill Wells,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lakeside,
Hasil Adkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Absolute Body Control,
Warren Ellis,
World's Most,
Albert Ayler,
Visage,
James White and The Blacks,
The Slits,
Morten Harket,
The Vogues,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.