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 Iraq 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 Bizarre Inc. to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Lower 48,
The Vogues,
Soul II Soul,
Gang of Four,
Connie Case,
Suburban Knight,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fluxion,
Electric Prunes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fat Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dirtbombs,
Brothers Johnson,
Peter and Kerry,
MDC,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rufus Thomas,
John Holt,
The Fuzztones,
Blossom Toes,
One Last Wish,
Janne Schatter,
Sun Ra,
Duran Duran,
Cameo,
the Germs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Q and Not U,
Michelle Simonal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Dolphy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tommy Roe,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed,
Idris Muhammad,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wings,
Funkadelic,
Cecil Taylor,
The Toasters,
Sugar Minott,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minutemen,
Organ,
The Smoke,
Sällskapet,
Fela Kuti,
Mr. Review,
Hardrive,
Rites of Spring,
The Young Rascals,
Echospace,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Procol Harum,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.