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 Oman and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 DJ Sneak to the grime 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Sex Pistols,
Heaven 17,
Mars,
The Selecter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Alarm Clocks,
Surgeon,
Public Enemy,
Scratch Acid,
Johnny Clarke,
Television,
Anakelly,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Gap Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Porter Ricks,
Ituana,
the Sonics,
David Bowie,
The Walker Brothers,
Zapp,
The Gun Club,
Mad Mike,
Flash Fearless,
Lindisfarne,
Ronnie Foster,
The New Christs,
Kayak,
Masters at Work,
Dual Sessions,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Association,
The Searchers,
Morten Harket,
Mark Hollis,
Ronan,
Andrew Hill,
Juan Atkins,
Black Bananas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ludus,
New Age Steppers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Move,
Marmalade,
Scrapy,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swell Maps,
The Slackers,
Joy Division,
The Cure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Doors,
The Residents,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roxy Music,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.