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 Moldova and from Salvador.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gladiators 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Kool Moe Dee,
Niagra,
Judy Mowatt,
Radio Birdman,
PIL,
The Human League,
AZ,
Peter and Kerry,
Ituana,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soul II Soul,
Ronan,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Smoke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cheater Slicks,
Brick,
New Order,
The Evens,
Sällskapet,
The Trojans,
Cluster,
Man Eating Sloth,
Delta 5,
Moss Icon,
Sun Ra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Whodini,
The Skatalites,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tres Demented,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bush Tetras,
Mo-Dettes,
Faraquet,
Morten Harket,
Franke,
Rod Modell,
Stiv Bators,
Camouflage,
Ronnie Foster,
Sparks,
The Gladiators,
The Moleskins,
the Germs,
T.S.O.L.,
Joyce Sims,
Angry Samoans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roxette,
The Offenders,
The Detroit Cobras,
X-101,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lucky Dragons,
Derrick May,
Visage,
Adolescents,
Ten City,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.