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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sisters of Mercy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Donny Hathaway,
Tim Buckley,
Byron Stingily,
Michelle Simonal,
Pantytec,
Suicide,
Severed Heads,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
Echospace,
Joensuu 1685,
Rapeman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Silicon Teens,
Todd Rundgren,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Shuggie Otis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ornette Coleman,
X-Ray Spex,
the Normal,
The Buckinghams,
Inner City,
Wings,
Icehouse,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dark Day,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sound Behaviour,
New York Dolls,
Smog,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
Cheater Slicks,
Average White Band,
The Vogues,
Cecil Taylor,
Quando Quango,
Mr. Review,
Vainqueur,
The Star Department,
10cc,
Morten Harket,
Gang Starr,
Maurizio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Von Mondo,
Bronski Beat,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fire Engines,
Tears for Fears,
the Germs,
Gichy Dan,
FM Einheit,
The Young Rascals,
Janne Schatter,
Pierre Henry,
Stetsasonic,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.