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 Laos and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Gang Starr,
Bush Tetras,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
Josef K,
Kas Product,
Television,
The Cramps,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jimmy McGriff,
Derrick Morgan,
Carl Craig,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultra Naté,
Agitation Free,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flipper,
Joyce Sims,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Toasters,
The Neon Judgement,
F. McDonald,
The Victims,
Sällskapet,
Godley & Creme,
Boz Scaggs,
The Index,
Stereo Dub,
Visage,
The Fortunes,
Los Fastidios,
Cluster,
Stockholm Monsters,
Theoretical Girls,
The Walker Brothers,
Yellowson,
Maurizio,
Soul II Soul,
Big Daddy Kane,
China Crisis,
Bluetip,
X-Ray Spex,
Nik Kershaw,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Slits,
The Trojans,
Bill Near,
Model 500,
Alphaville,
Boredoms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Divine Comedy,
Buzzcocks,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dual Sessions,
T.S.O.L.,
Althea and Donna,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.