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 Spain and from Lille.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Porter Ricks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heaven 17,
Andrew Hill,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yazoo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Toasters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Freddie Wadling,
EPMD,
Janne Schatter,
The Trojans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Delta 5,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Second Layer,
Buzzcocks,
The Mummies,
Qualms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quantec,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The J.B.'s,
Visage,
Von Mondo,
Judy Mowatt,
Los Fastidios,
Ohio Players,
The Raincoats,
Mandrill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minor Threat,
Smog,
New York Dolls,
MDC,
Dawn Penn,
Michelle Simonal,
The Index,
Monolake,
The Neon Judgement,
Arthur Verocai,
Hot Snakes,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bill Near,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nils Olav,
Tim Buckley,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brick,
Soft Cell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Moon,
Skriet,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amazonics,
Sun Ra,
Matthew Halsall,
Donald Byrd,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.