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 Rwanda and from Johannesburg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Unrelated Segments to the rock 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
The Walker Brothers,
a-ha,
Chris Corsano,
Ultravox,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Last Poets,
Quando Quango,
Tears for Fears,
Gang of Four,
Stetsasonic,
Laurel Aitken,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arthur Verocai,
Interpol,
Marc Almond,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Erasure,
Massinfluence,
Bauhaus,
Mr. Review,
The Angels of Light,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minor Threat,
The Moody Blues,
The Offenders,
Connie Case,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Spoonie Gee,
Angry Samoans,
Public Enemy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Unwound,
the Bar-Kays,
Max Romeo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Isaac Hayes,
The Toasters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Matthew Halsall,
John Coltrane,
Wire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Slave,
Ken Boothe,
Gong,
Eddi Front,
Cameo,
The Real Kids,
Monolake,
Bobby Byrd,
One Last Wish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Talk Talk,
Swell Maps,
The Young Rascals,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.