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 Monaco 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Tom Verlaine 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 American Breed to the techno 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
The Moleskins,
Fatback Band,
The Monochrome Set,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moebius,
Little Man,
Bang On A Can,
Lindisfarne,
Roxette,
Interpol,
Groovy Waters,
R.M.O.,
The J.B.'s,
Underground Resistance,
Public Enemy,
Flipper,
Jacob Miller,
Kerri Chandler,
Roy Ayers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Infiniti,
A Certain Ratio,
B.T. Express,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gun Club,
Tom Boy,
Radio Birdman,
Fluxion,
Traffic Nightmare,
Howard Jones,
Fela Kuti,
Popol Vuh,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Misunderstood,
Bush Tetras,
Essential Logic,
Gabor Szabo,
The Buckinghams,
Donald Byrd,
MDC,
Gang of Four,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Symarip,
The Skatalites,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Outsiders,
Vainqueur,
Amazonics,
Yellowson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jawbox,
Liliput,
Mad Mike,
Sight & Sound,
Agent Orange,
Clear Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Carl Craig,
the Germs,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.