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 Congo and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ronnie Foster to the rock 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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Pus,
Marvin Gaye,
Archie Shepp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Porter Ricks,
Black Sheep,
Quadrant,
Duran Duran,
Eurythmics,
Harmonia,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tom Boy,
Flipper,
Bronski Beat,
Hoover,
H. Thieme,
Nik Kershaw,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Susan Cadogan,
John Cale,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Panda Bear,
Trumans Water,
Eden Ahbez,
Cabaret Voltaire,
L. Decosne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Misunderstood,
Visage,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pierre Henry,
Tommy Roe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
Animal Collective,
D'Angelo,
The Angels of Light,
Minny Pops,
Aural Exciters,
The Dead C,
Marmalade,
John Holt,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yaz,
Das Ding,
the Germs,
Chris Corsano,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Bourne,
Cecil Taylor,
Sandy B,
Kaleidoscope,
Mark Hollis,
Subhumans,
The Litter,
The Leaves,
Suburban Knight,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.