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 Luxembourg and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Thee Headcoats to the funk 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Reuben Wilson,
Funkadelic,
Pagans,
Mantronix,
X-101,
Tomorrow,
The Music Machine,
Glambeats Corp.,
Malaria!,
The Index,
Technova,
Aswad,
Dawn Penn,
Icehouse,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Womack,
La Düsseldorf,
Joey Negro,
Delta 5,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Residents,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crime,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wally Richardson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fear,
Alphaville,
Bobby Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
Schoolly D,
Letta Mbulu,
Stereo Dub,
Mark Hollis,
Model 500,
UT,
Tom Boy,
Pere Ubu,
The New Christs,
The Blackbyrds,
The Barracudas,
Swans,
Lou Christie,
Sarah Menescal,
Mars,
The Misunderstood,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kurtis Blow,
Quadrant,
The Beau Brummels,
Tubeway Army,
Kenny Larkin,
The Angels of Light,
kango's stein massive,
48th St. Collective,
Surgeon,
Scott Walker,
Motorama,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fuzztones,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.