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 Dominican Republic and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Hardrive to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Mojo Men,
Bobby Byrd,
The Offenders,
The Black Dice,
Pierre Henry,
Urselle,
Ultravox,
Los Fastidios,
Janne Schatter,
Bush Tetras,
Inner City,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cameo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vladislav Delay,
Roxy Music,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Blancmange,
These Immortal Souls,
Slick Rick,
Shoche,
Black Flag,
Tom Boy,
Leonard Cohen,
Rosa Yemen,
the Normal,
Neil Young,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Reagan Youth,
The Neon Judgement,
Oblivians,
the Sonics,
The Stooges,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash,
Excepter,
Scientists,
Underground Resistance,
Depeche Mode,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Accadde A,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Görl,
Yusef Lateef,
Warren Ellis,
Moss Icon,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gladiators,
Buzzcocks,
Clear Light,
Lightning Bolt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Model 500,
The United States of America,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.