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 Ivory Coast 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kenny Larkin to the grime 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '90s.
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 Qualms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Yazoo,
E-Dancer,
Fear,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Names,
Freddie Wadling,
Suburban Knight,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Star Department,
Buzzcocks,
China Crisis,
Hot Snakes,
Bluetip,
The Zeros,
Arab on Radar,
The Fire Engines,
Icehouse,
Kaleidoscope,
The Victims,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Style,
Gong,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dave Clark Five,
Simply Red,
John Holt,
Steve Hackett,
Blancmange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cheater Slicks,
Monks,
David Bowie,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bush Tetras,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ponytail,
Bronski Beat,
ABBA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Adolescents,
Ludus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
The Busters,
Eurythmics,
Babytalk,
John Lydon,
The United States of America,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Main Source,
Maurizio,
Stiv Bators,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.