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 Turkmenistan and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thompson Twins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Severed Heads,
Joensuu 1685,
The Durutti Column,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Faraquet,
Blake Baxter,
Thee Headcoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lebanon Hanover,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
Make Up,
the Normal,
The Star Department,
Metal Thangz,
Vladislav Delay,
Excepter,
The Saints,
Mo-Dettes,
X-102,
Ten City,
X-Ray Spex,
The Buckinghams,
In Retrospect,
Grey Daturas,
Josef K,
Fluxion,
Howard Jones,
Eric Dolphy,
Boz Scaggs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bad Manners,
Scan 7,
Ossler,
Los Fastidios,
T. Rex,
KRS-One,
Freddie Wadling,
the Human League,
Qualms,
The Fire Engines,
Essential Logic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Skriet,
Kurtis Blow,
Don Cherry,
The Seeds,
Gang Green,
Loose Ends,
Robert Görl,
Young Marble Giants,
The Stooges,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hardrive,
Agitation Free,
The Index,
Can,
The Names,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.