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 Serbia and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes 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 Laurel Aitken to the grime 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Quadrant,
Pole,
Shuggie Otis,
Derrick Morgan,
Althea and Donna,
H. Thieme,
The Index,
Jacques Brel,
Fela Kuti,
Terrestrial Tones,
U.S. Maple,
The Angels of Light,
T. Rex,
Qualms,
Black Flag,
Quantec,
Wire,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dead C,
Minutemen,
Gang Green,
Main Source,
Yazoo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neil Young,
Patti Smith,
Boredoms,
The Five Americans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Association,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sound Behaviour,
The Offenders,
Electric Prunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Pop Group,
Pussy Galore,
Charles Mingus,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cramps,
Goldenarms,
Motorama,
Chrome,
Kenny Larkin,
The Leaves,
Quando Quango,
Marvin Gaye,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boz Scaggs,
Anakelly,
The United States of America,
Pantytec,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Camouflage,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Seeds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fad Gadget,
Deepchord,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.