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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 AZ to the disco 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Funky Four + One,
Bob Dylan,
The United States of America,
Ornette Coleman,
Supertramp,
The Fortunes,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Black Dice,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nation of Ulysses,
48th St. Collective,
Jeff Mills,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joe Smooth,
Curtis Mayfield,
The J.B.'s,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rekid,
Boz Scaggs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Magazine,
Dave Gahan,
Mad Mike,
Sam Rivers,
John Lydon,
Ken Boothe,
Arthur Verocai,
Joe Finger,
June of 44,
DJ Style,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
D'Angelo,
Isaac Hayes,
Amazonics,
Japan,
Laurel Aitken,
Hoover,
Sound Behaviour,
L. Decosne,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Searchers,
Q65,
The Victims,
The Techniques,
Spandau Ballet,
Rod Modell,
Steve Hackett,
Make Up,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Names,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Velvet Underground,
Eden Ahbez,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Carl Craig,
Stetsasonic,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.