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 Kazakhstan and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Procol Harum to the jazz 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bob Dylan,
Slave,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Deadbeat,
Pantaleimon,
Wasted Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
Ultra Naté,
Harpers Bizarre,
Shuggie Otis,
Bauhaus,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cluster,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
June of 44,
Archie Shepp,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joe Finger,
Mars,
Das Ding,
Heaven 17,
Josef K,
Scott Walker,
The Electric Prunes,
Funkadelic,
Joe Smooth,
Grauzone,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marcia Griffiths,
La Düsseldorf,
The Sonics,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gang Starr,
Yaz,
The Smoke,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Christie,
The Misunderstood,
Rosa Yemen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ludus,
Television Personalities,
Buzzcocks,
Hot Snakes,
Todd Terry,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Star Department,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Maurizio,
the Association,
Spandau Ballet,
Average White Band,
Y Pants,
Motorama,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.