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 Peru and from Mexico City.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dark Day to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Youth Brigade,
Ultimate Spinach,
Radio Birdman,
Rakim,
Bauhaus,
The New Christs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Motions,
The Names,
Johnny Clarke,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Magma,
Robert Hood,
Toni Rubio,
Pere Ubu,
Todd Rundgren,
Bob Dylan,
Joyce Sims,
Bill Wells,
Babytalk,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Pretty Things,
Unrelated Segments,
Parry Music,
the Association,
MDC,
The Buckinghams,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Minny Pops,
Surgeon,
Pantaleimon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Mills,
Spandau Ballet,
Judy Mowatt,
The American Breed,
The Skatalites,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Five Americans,
Flash Fearless,
Gang Starr,
Schoolly D,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Womack,
Laurel Aitken,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Deadbeat,
The J.B.'s,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Subhumans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Delta 5,
John Holt,
Sex Pistols,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Residents,
Todd Terry,
Infiniti,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.