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 Barbados and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Angels of Light 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Masters at Work,
Neu!,
Blossom Toes,
Susan Cadogan,
Spandau Ballet,
Rites of Spring,
Marc Almond,
Organ,
Babytalk,
Chris & Cosey,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Whodini,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-101,
R.M.O.,
Lower 48,
Scott Walker,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deepchord,
Index,
Quando Quango,
Monks,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Tremeloes,
Depeche Mode,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mad Mike,
Andrew Hill,
Deadbeat,
John Cale,
Eurythmics,
Neil Young,
The Moleskins,
Bad Manners,
Joy Division,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Moebius,
Cymande,
B.T. Express,
Harry Pussy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David Bowie,
The Gun Club,
X-102,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Knickerbockers,
The Vogues,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kas Product,
Gang Green,
Jerry's Kids,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Joe Smooth,
Visage,
Severed Heads,
Sugar Minott,
Mission of Burma,
The Happenings,
Rosa Yemen,
Oblivians,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.