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 Bahrain and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Moss Icon to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Smog,
June of 44,
the Soft Cell,
Bad Manners,
Ronan,
The Evens,
Cameo,
Quadrant,
Surgeon,
Chris & Cosey,
John Cale,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Victims,
Accadde A,
Arthur Verocai,
Wolf Eyes,
Make Up,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
10cc,
Metal Thangz,
Gang of Four,
Nico,
Brass Construction,
Fugazi,
Janne Schatter,
Saccharine Trust,
Sun City Girls,
Supertramp,
Joe Smooth,
Howard Jones,
The Gories,
Con Funk Shun,
Minor Threat,
Skriet,
The Moody Blues,
Amazonics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Average White Band,
Livin' Joy,
K-Klass,
The Red Krayola,
Mandrill,
CMW,
Lalann,
The United States of America,
The Blackbyrds,
Reagan Youth,
David Bowie,
Stereo Dub,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Warsaw,
Dead Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Shadows of Knight,
Country Teasers,
Slave,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.