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 Estonia and from Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the crunk 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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha 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?
New Age Steppers,
Ice-T,
Pussy Galore,
8 Eyed Spy,
Massinfluence,
Harry Pussy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Make Up,
Index,
Basic Channel,
the Soft Cell,
Boz Scaggs,
Thompson Twins,
Lyres,
The Names,
Dawn Penn,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dual Sessions,
Nils Olav,
Brass Construction,
The Real Kids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tim Buckley,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cramps,
Motorama,
B.T. Express,
Lebanon Hanover,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
F. McDonald,
Barbara Tucker,
Neu!,
Nirvana,
Gang of Four,
Flash Fearless,
Reagan Youth,
Saccharine Trust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
L. Decosne,
Shuggie Otis,
The Tremeloes,
Max Romeo,
Soul II Soul,
Eddi Front,
Circle Jerks,
Eden Ahbez,
Bootsy Collins,
Roy Ayers,
Technova,
Yazoo,
Tubeway Army,
The Kinks,
One Last Wish,
Faust,
ABBA,
Niagra,
Alice Coltrane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stetsasonic,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.