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 Colombia and from Taipei.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Spandau Ballet to the grime 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Average White Band,
Davy DMX,
The Moleskins,
The Selecter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Surgeon,
Whodini,
Carl Craig,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Trojans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joensuu 1685,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Faust,
Masters at Work,
Circle Jerks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Judy Mowatt,
Alison Limerick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Urselle,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Visage,
Bob Dylan,
Charles Mingus,
Rufus Thomas,
Newcleus,
Khruangbin,
KRS-One,
Infiniti,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Marcia Griffiths,
Jandek,
Yellowson,
Zero Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
a-ha,
The Dirtbombs,
Young Marble Giants,
One Last Wish,
The Martian,
Erasure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lou Christie,
Reuben Wilson,
Vladislav Delay,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultra Naté,
Bronski Beat,
Duran Duran,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Red Krayola,
Jeff Lynne,
Index,
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.