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 Saudi Arabia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barry Ungar to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Five Americans,
Matthew Bourne,
The Standells,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mandrill,
Wings,
Donald Byrd,
Severed Heads,
Eddi Front,
Bluetip,
Guru Guru,
Simply Red,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minnie Riperton,
The Count Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
The American Breed,
Black Sheep,
Harmonia,
Pere Ubu,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Sherman,
Stereo Dub,
The Index,
Theoretical Girls,
Dawn Penn,
New York Dolls,
Buzzcocks,
Second Layer,
Sällskapet,
Cheater Slicks,
Neil Young,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mark Hollis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joyce Sims,
The Smoke,
The Stooges,
The Divine Comedy,
Agitation Free,
Max Romeo,
The Red Krayola,
Ice-T,
The Evens,
Barbara Tucker,
MDC,
Faust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Minny Pops,
Albert Ayler,
Section 25,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crooked Eye,
ABC,
Josef K,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.