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 Syria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare 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 Con Funk Shun to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Sällskapet,
The Fire Engines,
Erasure,
Agitation Free,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scion,
Freddie Wadling,
Deepchord,
10cc,
Arcadia,
The Gun Club,
Jacob Miller,
Rapeman,
Sam Rivers,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barrington Levy,
Interpol,
Sixth Finger,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric Copeland,
Rufus Thomas,
The Mummies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
Cymande,
Marshall Jefferson,
Y Pants,
Zapp,
The Tremeloes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roxy Music,
Spandau Ballet,
Anthony Braxton,
Yaz,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Machine,
The Black Dice,
Das Ding,
Gang Gang Dance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Electric Prunes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crash Course in Science,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Knickerbockers,
China Crisis,
Slave,
Wings,
The Beau Brummels,
Byron Stingily,
Nas,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fear,
Lou Christie,
The Move,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.