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 Monaco and from New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Stockholm Monsters to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crash Course in Science,
World's Most,
ABC,
the Swans,
Excepter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vainqueur,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Sheep,
kango's stein massive,
The Grass Roots,
Pole,
Cal Tjader,
Deakin,
Joey Negro,
Hoover,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Japan,
Television Personalities,
The Star Department,
Gerry Rafferty,
Michelle Simonal,
Fat Boys,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ice-T,
These Immortal Souls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-101,
Blancmange,
Goldenarms,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
ABBA,
The Searchers,
Index,
Brass Construction,
Bush Tetras,
Janne Schatter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tubeway Army,
The Tremeloes,
a-ha,
Wings,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barbara Tucker,
Crispian St. Peters,
Suburban Knight,
Eden Ahbez,
Shoche,
Todd Rundgren,
48th St. Collective,
Altered Images,
Supertramp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.