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 Namibia and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Ice-T,
Marvin Gaye,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Sonics,
Main Source,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Busters,
China Crisis,
Quando Quango,
The Victims,
Royal Trux,
Lalann,
10cc,
Brand Nubian,
New York Dolls,
Jeff Mills,
Youth Brigade,
The Skatalites,
Bill Wells,
Nils Olav,
The Walker Brothers,
Minny Pops,
Ludus,
Eric Copeland,
Symarip,
Sight & Sound,
Audionom,
48th St. Collective,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jandek,
Public Enemy,
Moebius,
The Real Kids,
Mantronix,
Ken Boothe,
Visage,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Star Department,
Amazonics,
The Cure,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tim Buckley,
Rekid,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Magazine,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Seeds,
Swell Maps,
Mission of Burma,
Circle Jerks,
Subhumans,
Heaven 17,
Gichy Dan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bang On A Can,
Rosa Yemen,
Fat Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Davy DMX,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.