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 Bulgaria and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer 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 Man Parrish to the crunk 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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
The Angels of Light,
Index,
Chrome,
Echospace,
Sugar Minott,
Blancmange,
Jacob Miller,
Laurel Aitken,
The Techniques,
The Move,
DJ Style,
Crime,
Television Personalities,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Birthday Party,
Andrew Hill,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Tubeway Army,
Black Pus,
Jeff Lynne,
Sex Pistols,
The Associates,
Livin' Joy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gap Band,
Pole,
The United States of America,
Barry Ungar,
Aswad,
Excepter,
EPMD,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Visage,
The New Christs,
Zero Boys,
T. Rex,
Quantec,
Interpol,
Robert Görl,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Modern Lovers,
Eden Ahbez,
Hoover,
Cheater Slicks,
Malaria!,
Dave Gahan,
The Kinks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dark Day,
DNA,
These Immortal Souls,
Stereo Dub,
Popol Vuh,
Amon Düül II,
Matthew Halsall,
The Moody Blues,
Mandrill,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.