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 Austria and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar 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 The Sound to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Talk Talk,
The New Christs,
Slick Rick,
X-101,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Average White Band,
Babytalk,
Bootsy Collins,
Hasil Adkins,
T. Rex,
Monks,
Minor Threat,
Patti Smith,
Absolute Body Control,
The Kinks,
The Monks,
Maurizio,
Nation of Ulysses,
JFA,
Connie Case,
Joy Division,
Funkadelic,
Marc Almond,
Erasure,
Letta Mbulu,
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lucky Dragons,
Gabor Szabo,
U.S. Maple,
Gil Scott Heron,
La Düsseldorf,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Pretty Things,
Tres Demented,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sun Ra,
Thee Headcoats,
Bush Tetras,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Mojo Men,
Easy Going,
Unwound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
PIL,
Ronan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harmonia,
Rakim,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gories,
Agitation Free,
Funky Four + One,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q and Not U,
Arab on Radar,
Niagra,
Ten City,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.