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 Chile and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe 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 Joy Division 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
The Cure,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scion,
Soul II Soul,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jacob Miller,
Funkadelic,
Mark Hollis,
Letta Mbulu,
Ten City,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Black Dice,
Junior Murvin,
Marvin Gaye,
Ronan,
Minor Threat,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Simply Red,
the Human League,
DNA,
Desert Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Goldenarms,
Avey Tare,
Nico,
Q and Not U,
Tommy Roe,
Heaven 17,
Unrelated Segments,
Erasure,
Dave Gahan,
Unwound,
Clear Light,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Normal,
Anakelly,
Jawbox,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marmalade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liliput,
Colin Newman,
New Age Steppers,
Skriet,
Con Funk Shun,
The Beau Brummels,
Tomorrow,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
Sexual Harrassment,
Freddie Wadling,
Wings,
Banda Bassotti,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.