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 Papua New Guinea and from Tokyo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Heaven 17 to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ludus,
Boredoms,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cal Tjader,
Wally Richardson,
K-Klass,
Crooked Eye,
Drexciya,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lower 48,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
OOIOO,
Kenny Larkin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bang On A Can,
Tim Buckley,
The Star Department,
Monolake,
The Stooges,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Association,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang Starr,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ronan,
Man Parrish,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fugs,
Lakeside,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
These Immortal Souls,
The Red Krayola,
Lungfish,
The Wake,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skaos,
Theoretical Girls,
D'Angelo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aswad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Peter & Gordon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispian St. Peters,
Swans,
Jerry's Kids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
David McCallum,
Sun City Girls,
Tres Demented,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
The Angels of Light,
Rekid,
Susan Cadogan,
Moebius,
Yusef Lateef,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.