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 Barbados and from Madrid.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Depeche Mode to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Little Man,
Bill Wells,
David McCallum,
Brass Construction,
Terrestrial Tones,
Patti Smith,
The New Christs,
Barrington Levy,
Jawbox,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Vladislav Delay,
Negative Approach,
Darondo,
Neu!,
H. Thieme,
Tom Boy,
Monolake,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gories,
The Fuzztones,
Joe Finger,
Gabor Szabo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Simply Red,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Moody Blues,
Howard Jones,
Minnie Riperton,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marcia Griffiths,
Blossom Toes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Mojo Men,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deadbeat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Icehouse,
Essential Logic,
E-Dancer,
Pussy Galore,
Sex Pistols,
Radiohead,
Suburban Knight,
Sparks,
Crooked Eye,
The Seeds,
Pulsallama,
Lalann,
Livin' Joy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Moby Grape,
Jacob Miller,
The Slits,
Peter & Gordon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Procol Harum,
Scion,
June of 44,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.