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 Mauritania and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Radiopuhelimet to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Bill Near,
June of 44,
the Soft Cell,
the Normal,
Crash Course in Science,
The Knickerbockers,
Lakeside,
X-102,
Grauzone,
Althea and Donna,
Judy Mowatt,
The Human League,
Pierre Henry,
Tears for Fears,
DJ Style,
Hashim,
The Zeros,
Tubeway Army,
Ornette Coleman,
Royal Trux,
The Smoke,
Moby Grape,
Livin' Joy,
Howard Jones,
Dark Day,
Ultra Naté,
Henry Cow,
Infiniti,
Suicide,
Alison Limerick,
Maurizio,
Wasted Youth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scan 7,
The Move,
Prince Buster,
The Mojo Men,
Country Teasers,
Kayak,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fortunes,
X-101,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang Green,
Mandrill,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Derrick Morgan,
In Retrospect,
The Leaves,
The Misunderstood,
The Divine Comedy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Slick Rick,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Yellowson,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers,
The Names,
Dennis Brown,
Reuben Wilson,
Moss Icon,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.