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 Houston.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 La Düsseldorf to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
The Smoke,
Inner City,
Robert Wyatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-102,
The Birthday Party,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harmonia,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flipper,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Trumans Water,
Toni Rubio,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Human League,
Brass Construction,
Bush Tetras,
Supertramp,
Lalann,
PIL,
Absolute Body Control,
Kenny Larkin,
Brick,
Cal Tjader,
The Cowsills,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nik Kershaw,
Cybotron,
Cecil Taylor,
Angry Samoans,
Al Stewart,
Brand Nubian,
Icehouse,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultravox,
Half Japanese,
Section 25,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric Dolphy,
Bobby Byrd,
Sex Pistols,
Colin Newman,
Nas,
Wasted Youth,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Steve Hackett,
Ossler,
Donald Byrd,
Arthur Verocai,
Organ,
E-Dancer,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Monochrome Set,
Bill Wells,
Eddi Front,
Electric Light Orchestra,
R.M.O.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.