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 Iceland and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Tropical Tobacco to the jazz 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Visage,
AZ,
Ituana,
Whodini,
Chris Corsano,
The Residents,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
KRS-One,
Sun Ra,
Sight & Sound,
Wasted Youth,
Fat Boys,
Funkadelic,
Negative Approach,
Sugar Minott,
Scrapy,
Blake Baxter,
Aural Exciters,
The Sound,
The Sonics,
Michelle Simonal,
The Golliwogs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Junior Murvin,
Black Bananas,
Pylon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jeff Mills,
The Fortunes,
World's Most,
The Moleskins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Amon Düül,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wire,
Gang Green,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
Buzzcocks,
Juan Atkins,
Khruangbin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Urselle,
The Moody Blues,
The Human League,
H. Thieme,
Crime,
The Invisible,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Real Kids,
Pantaleimon,
Cluster,
Das Ding,
Radio Birdman,
Masters at Work,
Altered Images,
Ken Boothe,
Sandy B,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.