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 Panama and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the jazz 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Roger Hodgson,
Icehouse,
Ponytail,
Circle Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bush Tetras,
Country Teasers,
Heaven 17,
Dawn Penn,
Terry Callier,
Lyres,
Blossom Toes,
Wings,
AZ,
The Slackers,
Cheater Slicks,
Kayak,
Eurythmics,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Public Enemy,
OOIOO,
Magma,
kango's stein massive,
Model 500,
Quando Quango,
Reagan Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry's Kids,
Byron Stingily,
the Swans,
Max Romeo,
Grauzone,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Seeds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Walker Brothers,
Silicon Teens,
Visage,
D'Angelo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eric Dolphy,
Dual Sessions,
Derrick May,
Reuben Wilson,
Lightning Bolt,
Donny Hathaway,
Barclay James Harvest,
Motorama,
EPMD,
Bobby Womack,
Underground Resistance,
Eddi Front,
The Divine Comedy,
The Evens,
ABC,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Qualms,
Amon Düül II,
Parry Music,
World's Most,
Chris & Cosey,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.