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 Togo and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grime 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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
8 Eyed Spy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Al Stewart,
Vladislav Delay,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chrome,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crash Course in Science,
Barbara Tucker,
Minutemen,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Symarip,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Japan,
Siglo XX,
Kas Product,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bad Manners,
The Durutti Column,
Man Parrish,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Foxx,
B.T. Express,
Colin Newman,
Arab on Radar,
Tomorrow,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nils Olav,
John Coltrane,
Eli Mardock,
The Busters,
Altered Images,
Bob Dylan,
Whodini,
Bluetip,
Youth Brigade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Interpol,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ronan,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Remains,
Don Cherry,
The Last Poets,
K-Klass,
Jacob Miller,
Mission of Burma,
Lalann,
Drexciya,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Peter & Gordon,
David McCallum,
Leonard Cohen,
Magma,
Junior Murvin,
Tres Demented,
Anthony Braxton,
Surgeon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.