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 Azerbaijan and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 organ 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 Scientists to the grunge 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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bluetip,
Steve Hackett,
Scientists,
Fluxion,
kango's stein massive,
Howard Jones,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Oblivians,
Rhythm & Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Boz Scaggs,
Magazine,
Scion,
The Misunderstood,
Traffic Nightmare,
Quando Quango,
Patti Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Q and Not U,
Babytalk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Christie,
Susan Cadogan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ituana,
Organ,
Audionom,
China Crisis,
The Count Five,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wally Richardson,
Jandek,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Blues Magoos,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
DJ Sneak,
Morten Harket,
Monks,
Marine Girls,
Basic Channel,
Brick,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Fortunes,
Gong,
John Holt,
Sparks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wasted Youth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pantaleimon,
Brass Construction,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Remains,
Gang Gang Dance,
Funky Four + One,
T.S.O.L.,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.