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 Maldives and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Section 25 to the disco 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
A Certain Ratio,
Pussy Galore,
Big Daddy Kane,
Malaria!,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cecil Taylor,
Barbara Tucker,
John Foxx,
Lalann,
X-101,
Godley & Creme,
Grey Daturas,
Saccharine Trust,
T.S.O.L.,
Gabor Szabo,
John Holt,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Red Krayola,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alton Ellis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Accadde A,
Yaz,
the Fania All-Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Starr,
The Grass Roots,
Second Layer,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Seeds,
Juan Atkins,
X-102,
Ponytail,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Arcadia,
Technova,
Ludus,
Pantaleimon,
Althea and Donna,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Doors,
The Index,
Altered Images,
Faust,
T. Rex,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pole,
Lou Reed,
Mark Hollis,
Deepchord,
Dark Day,
The Wake,
Scrapy,
New Order,
ABBA,
Newcleus,
Junior Murvin,
ABC,
Soft Cell,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.