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 Suriname and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Fela Kuti to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Vladislav Delay,
Neu!,
Marmalade,
Howard Jones,
Michelle Simonal,
Scratch Acid,
The Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dawn Penn,
Malaria!,
Massinfluence,
Rosa Yemen,
Duran Duran,
10cc,
Gregory Isaacs,
Procol Harum,
The Electric Prunes,
the Soft Cell,
The Cramps,
Kurtis Blow,
the Normal,
Main Source,
Pulsallama,
Ossler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joy Division,
Outsiders,
Aloha Tigers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Steve Hackett,
Magma,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Mojo Men,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Smooth,
Minutemen,
The Wake,
Marc Almond,
Bill Near,
Technova,
The Moleskins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
John Cale,
Amon Düül,
Simply Red,
Jandek,
Lungfish,
The Gap Band,
Prince Buster,
Amon Düül II,
Gang Gang Dance,
Zapp,
Kaleidoscope,
OOIOO,
The Divine Comedy,
David Bowie,
The Busters,
Harmonia,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.