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 Venezuela and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Altered Images to the punk 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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bobby Womack,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eurythmics,
June Days,
Thee Headcoats,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moss Icon,
Moebius,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mandrill,
Rosa Yemen,
Janne Schatter,
The Neon Judgement,
The Buckinghams,
The Cramps,
Black Flag,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Vainqueur,
Alice Coltrane,
New Order,
Groovy Waters,
One Last Wish,
The Gap Band,
Cluster,
Pussy Galore,
Soft Machine,
Don Cherry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Stetsasonic,
Mark Hollis,
Thompson Twins,
Charles Mingus,
Section 25,
Pantytec,
Deadbeat,
Althea and Donna,
The Fall,
A Certain Ratio,
Fad Gadget,
The Raincoats,
Robert Hood,
Dave Gahan,
Sight & Sound,
CMW,
Franke,
Kurtis Blow,
Pere Ubu,
Electric Prunes,
Gang of Four,
Kerri Chandler,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Electric Prunes,
The Vogues,
Newcleus,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.