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 United Kingdom and from Toronto.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Gang Dance to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
E-Dancer,
The Vogues,
Au Pairs,
Nils Olav,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soft Cell,
Dead Boys,
Arcadia,
Maleditus Sound,
Boredoms,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Altered Images,
Sonny Sharrock,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Slits,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jacob Miller,
Marvin Gaye,
Toni Rubio,
The Count Five,
Skarface,
The Music Machine,
New Order,
Groovy Waters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mantronix,
Tears for Fears,
Siglo XX,
The Invisible,
Carl Craig,
The Busters,
The Kinks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cramps,
Skriet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Desert Stars,
Brick,
Dual Sessions,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultra Naté,
Joyce Sims,
Saccharine Trust,
Henry Cow,
Visage,
Nick Fraelich,
Magazine,
Royal Trux,
Niagra,
DJ Sneak,
Rod Modell,
Agitation Free,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Television,
The Litter,
Make Up,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sly & The Family Stone,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.