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 Bahrain and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet 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 Pierre Henry to the crunk 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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Byron Stingily,
The Knickerbockers,
Loose Ends,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aural Exciters,
Lucky Dragons,
Masters at Work,
X-Ray Spex,
Gastr Del Sol,
Suicide,
The Velvet Underground,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sun City Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Faust,
The Invisible,
These Immortal Souls,
Lindisfarne,
the Sonics,
Skriet,
Qualms,
Thompson Twins,
Sugar Minott,
Lalann,
Procol Harum,
Oblivians,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maurizio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pagans,
Rosa Yemen,
The Mummies,
The Gories,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Associates,
the Fania All-Stars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lightning Bolt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eric Copeland,
World's Most,
Warren Ellis,
John Foxx,
Bill Wells,
Marshall Jefferson,
Y Pants,
Radio Birdman,
PIL,
Bob Dylan,
JFA,
Josef K,
10cc,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Cell,
Cluster,
Clear Light,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.