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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Audionom to the punk 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Newcleus,
Stereo Dub,
The Pop Group,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reagan Youth,
Morten Harket,
Marc Almond,
The Victims,
Bob Dylan,
FM Einheit,
Mark Hollis,
Don Cherry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Agent Orange,
The Cowsills,
The Monochrome Set,
Blossom Toes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Blancmange,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cheater Slicks,
Pantaleimon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter & Gordon,
Goldenarms,
Cameo,
Pagans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Soft Cell,
Sparks,
ABC,
Popol Vuh,
Depeche Mode,
Angry Samoans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang of Four,
Joyce Sims,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pulsallama,
The Doors,
David McCallum,
Inner City,
Minny Pops,
Sonny Sharrock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris & Cosey,
Yellowson,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Golliwogs,
Wings,
Lou Christie,
Nirvana,
The Slits,
Oneida,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Martian,
Gong,
Todd Terry,
World's Most,
Avey Tare,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.