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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scratch Acid to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
David McCallum,
Television,
Half Japanese,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fatback Band,
Bush Tetras,
The Electric Prunes,
Boredoms,
Funky Four + One,
Barry Ungar,
Severed Heads,
Fela Kuti,
Glambeats Corp.,
Television Personalities,
the Bar-Kays,
the Soft Cell,
Graham Central Station,
Sugar Minott,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
China Crisis,
The Invisible,
Bobby Womack,
DNA,
Nirvana,
LL Cool J,
Ronan,
ABBA,
Lou Reed,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Agent Orange,
Banda Bassotti,
the Fania All-Stars,
a-ha,
Crash Course in Science,
Robert Görl,
JFA,
Alice Coltrane,
Inner City,
The Happenings,
the Germs,
Yazoo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sun Ra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeru the Damaja,
Erasure,
Piero Umiliani,
Tropical Tobacco,
Laurel Aitken,
Basic Channel,
Rufus Thomas,
Aswad,
Duran Duran,
Make Up,
Dead Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Hoover,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.