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 Czech Republic and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Qualms to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '70s 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Fugs,
The Fortunes,
Ultravox,
Funky Four + One,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Music Machine,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sällskapet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Amon Düül II,
Max Romeo,
Ludus,
Jacob Miller,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Bananas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Banda Bassotti,
the Swans,
Connie Case,
Popol Vuh,
Lalann,
Tommy Roe,
Dark Day,
Rosa Yemen,
Roxy Music,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Freddie Wadling,
The Monks,
D'Angelo,
David Axelrod,
Outsiders,
ABC,
Suburban Knight,
Kevin Saunderson,
Judy Mowatt,
Ponytail,
Lou Christie,
Minny Pops,
Dennis Brown,
Sister Nancy,
Arthur Verocai,
Magma,
Boogie Down Productions,
E-Dancer,
Country Teasers,
Rakim,
Scott Walker,
Eric Copeland,
Television,
The Happenings,
X-101,
Fugazi,
Unrelated Segments,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Five Americans,
Masters at Work,
PIL,
Kas Product,
R.M.O.,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.