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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the rock 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Al Stewart,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Soul Sonic Force,
Laurel Aitken,
Lucky Dragons,
Intrusion,
Patti Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Flipper,
Deepchord,
The Gladiators,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Holt,
Janne Schatter,
Darondo,
Steve Hackett,
Sight & Sound,
Sonic Youth,
Buzzcocks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Parry Music,
Brick,
Surgeon,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eric Copeland,
Junior Murvin,
Tears for Fears,
Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
Talk Talk,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Simply Red,
John Lydon,
Eric Dolphy,
Morten Harket,
Slick Rick,
Sandy B,
Soft Machine,
Todd Rundgren,
Mr. Review,
Ituana,
Yusef Lateef,
Vladislav Delay,
The Durutti Column,
Can,
Lou Reed,
Bang On A Can,
Slave,
Pierre Henry,
Skarface,
Scrapy,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Smoke,
Panda Bear,
Yaz,
Ossler,
DNA,
The United States of America,
Con Funk Shun,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.