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 Kosovo and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crispy Ambulance to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Franke,
Blancmange,
The Fugs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
48th St. Collective,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gregory Isaacs,
Spoonie Gee,
The Remains,
Prince Buster,
Hasil Adkins,
Wire,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Subhumans,
T.S.O.L.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hot Snakes,
Royal Trux,
H. Thieme,
Terry Callier,
The Grass Roots,
Johnny Osbourne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Los Fastidios,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang of Four,
The Cramps,
L. Decosne,
Harmonia,
Y Pants,
The Invisible,
Tomorrow,
Masters at Work,
The Wake,
Drive Like Jehu,
James White and The Blacks,
Pantaleimon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Loose Ends,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Procol Harum,
Flash Fearless,
Joyce Sims,
Deadbeat,
Intrusion,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alphaville,
The Pretty Things,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marine Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ronnie Foster,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.