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 Luxembourg and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kerrie Biddell to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fall,
Sun City Girls,
Boredoms,
H. Thieme,
Bluetip,
Aaron Thompson,
Kas Product,
Scan 7,
F. McDonald,
Stetsasonic,
Davy DMX,
Model 500,
Chris Corsano,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Kinks,
Index,
Grey Daturas,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Slits,
The Dead C,
The Electric Prunes,
Scrapy,
The Star Department,
This Heat,
Schoolly D,
the Swans,
Matthew Halsall,
Lakeside,
Fad Gadget,
The Count Five,
Joensuu 1685,
Donny Hathaway,
Mandrill,
Kurtis Blow,
Ossler,
Byron Stingily,
Roxette,
In Retrospect,
B.T. Express,
the Soft Cell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Duran Duran,
Tommy Roe,
The Cowsills,
Gang Green,
Siglo XX,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Moon,
Mantronix,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
UT,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hashim,
Ice-T,
Charles Mingus,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.