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 Bulgaria and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Jacques Brel to the jazz 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a spring reverb 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
OOIOO,
The Young Rascals,
Spandau Ballet,
The Saints,
Yazoo,
Sandy B,
ABBA,
Jacques Brel,
The Blues Magoos,
Aswad,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lou Christie,
Camouflage,
The Sonics,
Scott Walker,
Tom Boy,
Surgeon,
Chrome,
Deakin,
Albert Ayler,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nirvana,
Donny Hathaway,
The Velvet Underground,
The Litter,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Eating Sloth,
Robert Görl,
Aloha Tigers,
Tubeway Army,
the Slits,
Monolake,
Funky Four + One,
Nick Fraelich,
Crime,
Section 25,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Dead C,
Henry Cow,
Urselle,
Deadbeat,
Warren Ellis,
John Foxx,
The Raincoats,
Hot Snakes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric B and Rakim,
Unwound,
The Remains,
Black Bananas,
Piero Umiliani,
Infiniti,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.