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 Gambia and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Soft Cell to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
New Age Steppers,
Massinfluence,
Masters at Work,
Bang On A Can,
Circle Jerks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tom Boy,
Pere Ubu,
Scratch Acid,
The Associates,
Sonic Youth,
PIL,
The Standells,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Buzzcocks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amon Düül II,
Livin' Joy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bad Manners,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Technova,
FM Einheit,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Underground Resistance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Human League,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Intrusion,
Man Parrish,
Marine Girls,
Ludus,
The Victims,
The Techniques,
Magazine,
Harmonia,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Albert Ayler,
Black Pus,
This Heat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Walker Brothers,
Ten City,
Pantaleimon,
Echospace,
Hoover,
AZ,
Magma,
The Sonics,
Pulsallama,
Inner City,
The Evens,
Freddie Wadling,
Unrelated Segments,
Gong,
Silicon Teens,
Glenn Branca,
The Fall,
Half Japanese,
Smog,
The Detroit Cobras,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.