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 Algeria and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 The Young Rascals to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Frankie Knuckles,
Franke,
The Young Rascals,
The Monochrome Set,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Whodini,
Popol Vuh,
Kas Product,
The Cowsills,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arab on Radar,
World's Most,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monks,
Sam Rivers,
Rufus Thomas,
cv313,
FM Einheit,
The Grass Roots,
Gong,
Pylon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Happenings,
Flash Fearless,
The Divine Comedy,
The Stooges,
Camberwell Now,
Little Man,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
T.S.O.L.,
The Buckinghams,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Subhumans,
The Last Poets,
The Zeros,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marine Girls,
Lindisfarne,
China Crisis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Terry Callier,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Real Kids,
Mandrill,
Peter and Kerry,
Dead Boys,
The J.B.'s,
The Black Dice,
Brick,
Bobby Sherman,
The Invisible,
Bobby Womack,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Technova,
Sun Ra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.