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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Aloha Tigers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Banda Bassotti,
Vladislav Delay,
KRS-One,
Moebius,
Marvin Gaye,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Bananas,
CMW,
Quantec,
The Victims,
The Pop Group,
Lakeside,
Max Romeo,
Television,
Aloha Tigers,
Fela Kuti,
Fatback Band,
Flash Fearless,
Soulsonic Force,
Rites of Spring,
Man Parrish,
Black Pus,
Susan Cadogan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jacob Miller,
Black Sheep,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Swans,
Peter and Kerry,
Smog,
Colin Newman,
Todd Rundgren,
Zero Boys,
Clear Light,
Fluxion,
Japan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Make Up,
Radiohead,
Mr. Review,
Oneida,
X-Ray Spex,
Malaria!,
Nik Kershaw,
Minny Pops,
Tropical Tobacco,
Robert Görl,
Talk Talk,
Anakelly,
Ultra Naté,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
cv313,
Blossom Toes,
Lalann,
Slave,
Roger Hodgson,
Lower 48,
Magazine,
Ludus,
Gabor Szabo,
These Immortal Souls,
Main Source,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.