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 Andorra and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Severed Heads to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Blossom Toes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camberwell Now,
Funkadelic,
Ossler,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nik Kershaw,
Pulsallama,
Anthony Braxton,
The Star Department,
The Litter,
Mandrill,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Busters,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fire Engines,
Ultravox,
Quando Quango,
Popol Vuh,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marine Girls,
Franke,
The Birthday Party,
Radio Birdman,
Marvin Gaye,
China Crisis,
The New Christs,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Christie,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Au Pairs,
Donny Hathaway,
Alphaville,
Moebius,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pet Shop Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
10cc,
Stetsasonic,
Reagan Youth,
Moby Grape,
Letta Mbulu,
Lightning Bolt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Amon Düül II,
48th St. Collective,
Cecil Taylor,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rekid,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gerry Rafferty,
Archie Shepp,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gabor Szabo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.