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 China and from London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Banda Bassotti to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bang On A Can,
Rotary Connection,
Tres Demented,
Judy Mowatt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Echospace,
The Blues Magoos,
Agitation Free,
The Music Machine,
Howard Jones,
Visage,
Brass Construction,
Soft Machine,
Dead Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Ludus,
Alton Ellis,
The Blackbyrds,
Intrusion,
Sun City Girls,
Rod Modell,
Bauhaus,
Iggy Pop,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Tommy Roe,
The Misunderstood,
John Coltrane,
The Index,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Names,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Big Daddy Kane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ice-T,
Niagra,
Lungfish,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Bananas,
Jeru the Damaja,
China Crisis,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fire Engines,
Bob Dylan,
Oblivians,
Mission of Burma,
F. McDonald,
Colin Newman,
The Gladiators,
Metal Thangz,
Radiopuhelimet,
Angry Samoans,
Kas Product,
Mandrill,
the Sonics,
U.S. Maple,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nick Fraelich,
Nico,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.