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 Malawi and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Pop Group to the dance 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
The J.B.'s,
Bizarre Inc.,
Archie Shepp,
The Smoke,
Royal Trux,
Scan 7,
Erasure,
Eric B and Rakim,
UT,
Lalann,
Ultravox,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harry Pussy,
Stetsasonic,
Ice-T,
Zapp,
Mad Mike,
Quantec,
Magma,
Roger Hodgson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Slave,
The Star Department,
Pierre Henry,
Oblivians,
F. McDonald,
Drexciya,
Gang Starr,
Mo-Dettes,
Camouflage,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brick,
Freddie Wadling,
Spoonie Gee,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blancmange,
Monks,
Todd Rundgren,
The Litter,
the Soft Cell,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Masters at Work,
DJ Sneak,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ralphi Rosario,
Darondo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gabor Szabo,
Warsaw,
JFA,
Saccharine Trust,
Tom Boy,
The Busters,
Electric Prunes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Christie,
Monolake,
Tim Buckley,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Depeche Mode,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.