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 Singapore and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Infiniti to the grime 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Saccharine Trust,
Massinfluence,
Mantronix,
Fluxion,
New York Dolls,
Deepchord,
Bronski Beat,
Bauhaus,
Neu!,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Toasters,
E-Dancer,
Jandek,
Rapeman,
Liliput,
Fugazi,
The Music Machine,
Pylon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lower 48,
Ponytail,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pole,
Soulsonic Force,
This Heat,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Bananas,
ABC,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Busters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dual Sessions,
X-101,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dead Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Susan Cadogan,
the Bar-Kays,
Skriet,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Reed,
Hashim,
Brand Nubian,
UT,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter & Gordon,
Dawn Penn,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Rites of Spring,
Archie Shepp,
Kurtis Blow,
The Cowsills,
June Days,
Althea and Donna,
Drive Like Jehu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spandau Ballet,
Morten Harket,
Lalo Schifrin,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.