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 Mexico and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Khruangbin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
U.S. Maple,
Robert Hood,
John Foxx,
Big Daddy Kane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Youth Brigade,
Monolake,
Panda Bear,
Tommy Roe,
Rites of Spring,
Barclay James Harvest,
Aswad,
Television Personalities,
Dorothy Ashby,
Inner City,
The Remains,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
These Immortal Souls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Sheep,
The Invisible,
Tropical Tobacco,
Duran Duran,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
E-Dancer,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scratch Acid,
Wire,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nik Kershaw,
Jacques Brel,
Flash Fearless,
Delon & Dalcan,
Clear Light,
D'Angelo,
the Germs,
The Grass Roots,
Thompson Twins,
The Skatalites,
The Mojo Men,
Subhumans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rufus Thomas,
The Golliwogs,
Pussy Galore,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Human League,
Sex Pistols,
Mad Mike,
In Retrospect,
The Residents,
Absolute Body Control,
Graham Central Station,
Ten City,
Mandrill,
48th St. Collective,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.