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 Thailand and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
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 rhodes 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 Man Parrish to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lightning Bolt,
The Last Poets,
Agent Orange,
Tres Demented,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Spandau Ballet,
Stiv Bators,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cymande,
D'Angelo,
Das Ding,
Excepter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gories,
Unrelated Segments,
Scratch Acid,
Aloha Tigers,
Slick Rick,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Remains,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Buckinghams,
Anthony Braxton,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arcadia,
Thee Headcoats,
Johnny Osbourne,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-101,
Soft Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Clear Light,
Ornette Coleman,
Erasure,
Panda Bear,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gastr Del Sol,
Skaos,
Black Bananas,
Sandy B,
Sex Pistols,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gun Club,
Boredoms,
Roxy Music,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mission of Burma,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jacob Miller,
EPMD,
David Axelrod,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dual Sessions,
The Vogues,
Bobby Sherman,
Moss Icon,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.