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 Niger and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grime 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Chocolate Watch Band,
Cymande,
Aswad,
Can,
Erykah Badu,
Ituana,
8 Eyed Spy,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Moebius,
Babytalk,
Blossom Toes,
Ken Boothe,
Roxy Music,
Pagans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Byron Stingily,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crispian St. Peters,
Letta Mbulu,
DJ Style,
Masters at Work,
Matthew Halsall,
Lakeside,
F. McDonald,
Harry Pussy,
The Trojans,
FM Einheit,
The Searchers,
Nils Olav,
Slave,
Fela Kuti,
Gabor Szabo,
Mars,
The New Christs,
Brass Construction,
the Bar-Kays,
The Grass Roots,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flipper,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Görl,
Gang of Four,
Faraquet,
The Dead C,
The Moleskins,
Nirvana,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Neon Judgement,
Von Mondo,
MDC,
The Blues Magoos,
Technova,
The Fortunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Al Stewart,
Eric Dolphy,
Jacob Miller,
Thompson Twins,
Rapeman,
Sugar Minott,
Eric Copeland,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.