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 Bahamas and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Zapp to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
48th St. Collective,
The Gun Club,
Gong,
Suicide,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultra Naté,
Masters at Work,
Blancmange,
Terry Callier,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lungfish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Interpol,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lower 48,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nik Kershaw,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Banda Bassotti,
Infiniti,
Organ,
Make Up,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fad Gadget,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cluster,
The Blues Magoos,
Bronski Beat,
Drexciya,
The Index,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Trojans,
Blossom Toes,
Kenny Larkin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Theoretical Girls,
The Moody Blues,
The Star Department,
Yazoo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Accadde A,
The Smoke,
Niagra,
Prince Buster,
Gang of Four,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thompson Twins,
Max Romeo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Subhumans,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Matthew Halsall,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brick,
Simply Red,
The Walker Brothers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.