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 Cuba and from Lille.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jawbox to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie 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 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rapeman,
Al Stewart,
ABBA,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Harry Pussy,
The Black Dice,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yaz,
Lungfish,
David Axelrod,
Amon Düül,
Eurythmics,
Gang of Four,
Minnie Riperton,
Khruangbin,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Searchers,
Leonard Cohen,
Rufus Thomas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scan 7,
Kas Product,
Henry Cow,
The Cowsills,
Amazonics,
Johnny Clarke,
Dave Gahan,
Livin' Joy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Guru Guru,
Ronnie Foster,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joensuu 1685,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Vainqueur,
Scientists,
The Kinks,
Arcadia,
The Toasters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pussy Galore,
Soft Cell,
John Foxx,
The Cramps,
Jacques Brel,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Skarface,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Infiniti,
The Slackers,
Heaven 17,
Aural Exciters,
Jerry's Kids,
Can,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lucky Dragons,
Country Teasers,
Bob Dylan,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.