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 Senegal and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Lou Reed 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 John Holt to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Marine Girls,
Monolake,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Clarke,
Sandy B,
Visage,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Bananas,
Piero Umiliani,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Bill Near,
Das Ding,
Matthew Halsall,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Fortunes,
Danielle Patucci,
Jimmy McGriff,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ponytail,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fatback Band,
DNA,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Country Teasers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Quadrant,
The United States of America,
Dark Day,
Con Funk Shun,
Hashim,
Marc Almond,
Yazoo,
Banda Bassotti,
John Holt,
Eric Copeland,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roger Hodgson,
New York Dolls,
Wings,
AZ,
Glenn Branca,
Ten City,
Arthur Verocai,
Malaria!,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Depeche Mode,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stiv Bators,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eric Dolphy,
UT,
Easy Going,
Godley & Creme,
This Heat,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mandrill,
Agent Orange,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.