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 Zambia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Chrome,
Dark Day,
The Happenings,
Pere Ubu,
Scratch Acid,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Motions,
Flamin' Groovies,
Underground Resistance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lucky Dragons,
Khruangbin,
John Foxx,
Little Man,
The Vogues,
David Bowie,
Brothers Johnson,
Oblivians,
Harmonia,
The Fuzztones,
Andrew Hill,
Fat Boys,
Nas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Pop Group,
Donald Byrd,
Niagra,
T. Rex,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quantec,
Johnny Osbourne,
Maurizio,
Chris & Cosey,
Average White Band,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Misunderstood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Moss Icon,
Prince Buster,
Sixth Finger,
Metal Thangz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Symarip,
The Busters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Byron Stingily,
Bush Tetras,
Intrusion,
Black Bananas,
Jeff Mills,
Amon Düül II,
Television Personalities,
The Electric Prunes,
The New Christs,
PIL,
Bang On A Can,
Kerri Chandler,
The Sound,
Erasure,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.