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 Bahrain and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
The Fire Engines,
Agent Orange,
Spandau Ballet,
John Cale,
Von Mondo,
Porter Ricks,
Quando Quango,
Masters at Work,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Saints,
Yellowson,
The Fortunes,
KRS-One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Essential Logic,
Metal Thangz,
Ludus,
The Misunderstood,
Supertramp,
The Associates,
Marc Almond,
Boz Scaggs,
Jerry's Kids,
Sandy B,
Whodini,
Maleditus Sound,
Dark Day,
Nirvana,
Q65,
Second Layer,
Gabor Szabo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Albert Ayler,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bob Dylan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Easy Going,
Rapeman,
Gong,
Scratch Acid,
Iggy Pop,
Country Joe & The Fish,
James White and The Blacks,
Adolescents,
Audionom,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crime,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Altered Images,
Joy Division,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pulsallama,
Popol Vuh,
Peter & Gordon,
Tomorrow,
Livin' Joy,
Aaron Thompson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.