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 Monaco and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin 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 Blossom Toes 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Chrome,
Blossom Toes,
The Durutti Column,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yusef Lateef,
Severed Heads,
Matthew Bourne,
Ken Boothe,
Organ,
This Heat,
Moby Grape,
Pussy Galore,
Absolute Body Control,
Das Ding,
Bobby Byrd,
Thompson Twins,
Anakelly,
Royal Trux,
The Move,
Laurel Aitken,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Glambeats Corp.,
Judy Mowatt,
The Index,
Tom Boy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Leaves,
JFA,
Ituana,
These Immortal Souls,
Niagra,
Aural Exciters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Faust,
Parry Music,
Rapeman,
Interpol,
David Axelrod,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Womack,
Quando Quango,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Standells,
Howard Jones,
Trumans Water,
Cymande,
Ultra Naté,
Minnie Riperton,
Rufus Thomas,
Bauhaus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Moss Icon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Negative Approach,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arthur Verocai,
Pylon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Guru Guru,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.