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 Georgia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Mummies to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Blossom Toes,
Procol Harum,
Zero Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scott Walker,
Ossler,
10cc,
Mr. Review,
Derrick Morgan,
Pierre Henry,
Deepchord,
The Martian,
Colin Newman,
Davy DMX,
Ultra Naté,
Thompson Twins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Holt,
Pagans,
EPMD,
Matthew Halsall,
Popol Vuh,
Agent Orange,
Pantaleimon,
The Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gichy Dan,
Unwound,
Kevin Saunderson,
T.S.O.L.,
Eddi Front,
Brothers Johnson,
Surgeon,
Tubeway Army,
Eve St. Jones,
Angry Samoans,
Grey Daturas,
The Standells,
Skriet,
Masters at Work,
The Selecter,
Leonard Cohen,
The New Christs,
Scratch Acid,
Youth Brigade,
LL Cool J,
Johnny Clarke,
Rakim,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Byrd,
Inner City,
Black Bananas,
Con Funk Shun,
Faraquet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soul II Soul,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dark Day,
The Dirtbombs,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.