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 Belize and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Foxx to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Junior Murvin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
OOIOO,
June of 44,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Henry Cow,
Max Romeo,
Depeche Mode,
The Litter,
The United States of America,
Adolescents,
Pere Ubu,
the Sonics,
Heaven 17,
Von Mondo,
Agitation Free,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fatback Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Sight & Sound,
The Beau Brummels,
Scott Walker,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ohio Players,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Toni Rubio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Matthew Bourne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Metal Thangz,
The Black Dice,
Nico,
Maurizio,
Terry Callier,
Niagra,
Anakelly,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Index,
James White and The Blacks,
Outsiders,
Prince Buster,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joensuu 1685,
Severed Heads,
Carl Craig,
Altered Images,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aural Exciters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Warren Ellis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Radiopuhelimet,
China Crisis,
MDC,
Buzzcocks,
Silicon Teens,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Golliwogs,
Jacques Brel,
Alphaville,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.