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 Antigua and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Harry Pussy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Crispy Ambulance,
Parry Music,
Ultimate Spinach,
Urselle,
Max Romeo,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tom Boy,
Ohio Players,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang of Four,
The Dirtbombs,
Junior Murvin,
Jawbox,
Cheater Slicks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
H. Thieme,
MDC,
Zero Boys,
Lou Reed,
The Modern Lovers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
K-Klass,
Minor Threat,
Scion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Camberwell Now,
Eric Copeland,
Marshall Jefferson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Robert Görl,
Outsiders,
Negative Approach,
ABC,
Angry Samoans,
The J.B.'s,
Moby Grape,
Lightning Bolt,
The Misunderstood,
Siglo XX,
Stockholm Monsters,
Public Enemy,
The Fire Engines,
Harpers Bizarre,
10cc,
a-ha,
Mad Mike,
Symarip,
Lindisfarne,
Simply Red,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rites of Spring,
Hasil Adkins,
These Immortal Souls,
Harry Pussy,
Freddie Wadling,
Intrusion,
The Fugs,
Ituana,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.