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 Colombia and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jerry's Kids to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Marshall Jefferson,
Schoolly D,
The Red Krayola,
Arab on Radar,
Minutemen,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobbi Humphrey,
UT,
Cheater Slicks,
Amazonics,
PIL,
Joey Negro,
The Index,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Tom Boy,
James White and The Blacks,
New Age Steppers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fire Engines,
Section 25,
Gang Starr,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Connie Case,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Desert Stars,
Magazine,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fuzztones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Neon Judgement,
Big Daddy Kane,
Depeche Mode,
Make Up,
Sex Pistols,
The United States of America,
Mandrill,
EPMD,
Jeru the Damaja,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Alphaville,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lyres,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roxy Music,
AZ,
Crime,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Flag,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mo-Dettes,
The Searchers,
Absolute Body Control,
Visage,
The Blackbyrds,
F. McDonald,
Scan 7,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.