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 Malaysia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 Edmonton and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the dance 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Arthur Verocai,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Seeds,
the Association,
Sun Ra,
Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
The Evens,
Scrapy,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crooked Eye,
Fat Boys,
Black Flag,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soulsonic Force,
Lakeside,
Neu!,
Siglo XX,
Quadrant,
X-102,
Royal Trux,
Tears for Fears,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Delta 5,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Real Kids,
Stiv Bators,
David Axelrod,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sex Pistols,
Funkadelic,
Bronski Beat,
Technova,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dark Day,
Sight & Sound,
Pylon,
Q65,
Max Romeo,
Urselle,
Kas Product,
Scientists,
Babytalk,
the Sonics,
Sun City Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eurythmics,
Chris Corsano,
Unrelated Segments,
Wasted Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Joey Negro,
Robert Wyatt,
John Cale,
The Martian,
Pulsallama,
Roy Ayers,
Electric Prunes,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.