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 Saudi Arabia and from Taipei.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Flipper to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
The Index,
Altered Images,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Mills,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Faust,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lalann,
Chrome,
Goldenarms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Technova,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nik Kershaw,
DJ Sneak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camberwell Now,
The Angels of Light,
Tim Buckley,
Barrington Levy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Los Fastidios,
Newcleus,
X-102,
Talk Talk,
8 Eyed Spy,
Warren Ellis,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jacques Brel,
The Pretty Things,
New York Dolls,
Massinfluence,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Barracudas,
Al Stewart,
Minny Pops,
The Smiths,
Judy Mowatt,
Robert Hood,
Sight & Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Invisible,
Sugar Minott,
Sarah Menescal,
FM Einheit,
L. Decosne,
The Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
Loose Ends,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Vogues,
Steve Hackett,
Josef K,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pulsallama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
Ralphi Rosario,
Monks,
Q65,
Harry Pussy,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.