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 Kosovo and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Darondo to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Stetsasonic,
Spandau Ballet,
Wasted Youth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Swell Maps,
Q65,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ponytail,
The Tremeloes,
Maleditus Sound,
The Mummies,
Pierre Henry,
Joey Negro,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Toasters,
Aloha Tigers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Seeds,
The Skatalites,
Bob Dylan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Subhumans,
Dead Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
X-101,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arcadia,
Michelle Simonal,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Easy Going,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tubeway Army,
The Searchers,
X-102,
Make Up,
The Blues Magoos,
Eric B and Rakim,
Skaos,
The Stooges,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
B.T. Express,
The Sound,
Nirvana,
Intrusion,
Ituana,
The Young Rascals,
The Saints,
Young Marble Giants,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Pus,
The Real Kids,
Gregory Isaacs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Agitation Free,
The Durutti Column,
Donald Byrd,
Tres Demented,
The Human League,
Ossler,
Rekid,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.