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 Montenegro and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Shoche to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
The Slackers,
The Martian,
Niagra,
China Crisis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gang of Four,
Roxette,
Wolf Eyes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fugazi,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Franke,
Donald Byrd,
Mr. Review,
the Normal,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cymande,
Bobby Womack,
Suicide,
Organ,
The Saints,
MDC,
Bauhaus,
Altered Images,
Bang On A Can,
Lyres,
Nas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Susan Cadogan,
Second Layer,
The Fuzztones,
Faraquet,
Boredoms,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bill Wells,
Quantec,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dawn Penn,
Qualms,
The Neon Judgement,
Pussy Galore,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Albert Ayler,
Liliput,
Main Source,
Faust,
Amon Düül II,
Tomorrow,
Iggy Pop,
Bob Dylan,
The Beau Brummels,
The Moleskins,
Peter & Gordon,
Pagans,
The Smoke,
Duran Duran,
Lower 48,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.