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 Liechtenstein and from Columbus.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Vladislav Delay to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Andrew Hill,
Donald Byrd,
Minor Threat,
Q65,
Lalann,
ABBA,
Darondo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Amazonics,
Motorama,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rekid,
Ronnie Foster,
Quantec,
The Barracudas,
The Neon Judgement,
Depeche Mode,
Nirvana,
Terry Callier,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Stereo Dub,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang Green,
Radiohead,
Delta 5,
Rosa Yemen,
Rotary Connection,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Smog,
Animal Collective,
Roxy Music,
Pere Ubu,
Hot Snakes,
Blancmange,
Stiv Bators,
The Dead C,
Grey Daturas,
The Sonics,
Reagan Youth,
Faraquet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Danielle Patucci,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rapeman,
Little Man,
The Cowsills,
The Vogues,
In Retrospect,
The Misunderstood,
Black Bananas,
Wire,
F. McDonald,
The Music Machine,
Marine Girls,
Joey Negro,
Marvin Gaye,
The Modern Lovers,
Boz Scaggs,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.