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 Armenia and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Average White Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '80s.
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 Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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?
Das Ding,
Blancmange,
cv313,
Massinfluence,
Dark Day,
Archie Shepp,
E-Dancer,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joensuu 1685,
Skriet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Yellowson,
Minny Pops,
Sällskapet,
The Last Poets,
James White and The Blacks,
Janne Schatter,
Man Parrish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Stetsasonic,
Hardrive,
Boredoms,
Donald Byrd,
Jeru the Damaja,
Visage,
Icehouse,
Slave,
Michelle Simonal,
Tommy Roe,
Alison Limerick,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brass Construction,
F. McDonald,
Mary Jane Girls,
PIL,
Sight & Sound,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scrapy,
Mad Mike,
Ossler,
Deepchord,
Gichy Dan,
Symarip,
The Leaves,
X-Ray Spex,
Easy Going,
Buzzcocks,
David Bowie,
The Velvet Underground,
Pagans,
Fad Gadget,
The Human League,
the Normal,
Talk Talk,
Pantytec,
Bluetip,
The J.B.'s,
Ohio Players,
Harry Pussy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cameo,
Shoche,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.