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 Netherlands and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 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 Fatback Band to the rap 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
The Martian,
Tom Boy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kas Product,
Lungfish,
The Gladiators,
Harry Pussy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
The J.B.'s,
The Remains,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxette,
Spoonie Gee,
JFA,
Lalann,
Black Moon,
The Index,
Alton Ellis,
Scratch Acid,
Audionom,
June of 44,
Gong,
Brand Nubian,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Detroit Cobras,
James White and The Blacks,
Metal Thangz,
Rosa Yemen,
Dead Boys,
Groovy Waters,
Angry Samoans,
Arthur Verocai,
Ten City,
the Soft Cell,
Public Image Ltd.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gang Green,
Eric Dolphy,
Grauzone,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Barracudas,
Brick,
Surgeon,
Chris Corsano,
Kurtis Blow,
Stiv Bators,
The Selecter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Erykah Badu,
Niagra,
Animal Collective,
Warsaw,
AZ,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smiths,
Robert Wyatt,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Thompson Twins,
the Human League,
Al Stewart,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.