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 Antigua and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Slackers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Sandy B,
Crash Course in Science,
The Wake,
The Dead C,
Nas,
Delta 5,
Magma,
Sixth Finger,
The Pop Group,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sound Behaviour,
Alison Limerick,
the Swans,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Count Five,
Todd Terry,
Bobby Womack,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bush Tetras,
Freddie Wadling,
Bauhaus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The American Breed,
cv313,
Kool Moe Dee,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Infiniti,
Deakin,
Neil Young,
Arcadia,
Wally Richardson,
Grauzone,
kango's stein massive,
Byron Stingily,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Throbbing Gristle,
Country Teasers,
Mandrill,
Skaos,
Simply Red,
Arthur Verocai,
Chris & Cosey,
H. Thieme,
Lalann,
The Young Rascals,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deepchord,
Monolake,
DJ Sneak,
Interpol,
Crime,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Eric Copeland,
Danielle Patucci,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roxy Music,
Sex Pistols,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Index,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.