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 Kuwait and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Japan to the grime 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
JFA,
Thompson Twins,
Chris & Cosey,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang Gang Dance,
David McCallum,
Scion,
The Index,
Scott Walker,
Young Marble Giants,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aural Exciters,
Kayak,
Tears for Fears,
The Grass Roots,
Susan Cadogan,
The Black Dice,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kaleidoscope,
Don Cherry,
Rapeman,
Q and Not U,
Suburban Knight,
Hardrive,
The Human League,
Porter Ricks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minor Threat,
David Bowie,
X-101,
Moby Grape,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minny Pops,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
L. Decosne,
Roxy Music,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Slave,
Intrusion,
F. McDonald,
T. Rex,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rakim,
Marc Almond,
10cc,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Byrd,
Kas Product,
Derrick May,
The Golliwogs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Silicon Teens,
The Evens,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.