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 Brunei and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba 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 Silicon Teens to the crunk 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Porter Ricks,
Cybotron,
John Holt,
Mark Hollis,
Arthur Verocai,
Ken Boothe,
Cal Tjader,
The Shadows of Knight,
8 Eyed Spy,
The United States of America,
Kayak,
DJ Style,
Dual Sessions,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roy Ayers,
Maurizio,
Radio Birdman,
Joensuu 1685,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Zeros,
Wolf Eyes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash,
Quadrant,
Sonic Youth,
The Techniques,
MC5,
Sixth Finger,
Make Up,
Suburban Knight,
Adolescents,
the Soft Cell,
The Dirtbombs,
The Angels of Light,
Idris Muhammad,
The American Breed,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
One Last Wish,
The Wake,
Franke,
Jacob Miller,
Qualms,
Grauzone,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Martian,
Joy Division,
The Detroit Cobras,
Easy Going,
the Germs,
The Toasters,
The Durutti Column,
Iggy Pop,
Ronan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Niagra,
Zero Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alphaville,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.