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 Tonga and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 linndrum 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the techno 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
a-ha,
The Beau Brummels,
Pere Ubu,
John Holt,
The Smiths,
Fatback Band,
The Gun Club,
The Tremeloes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Swell Maps,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
kango's stein massive,
John Foxx,
Roger Hodgson,
Sam Rivers,
MDC,
Lakeside,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Toasters,
Ten City,
Soul Sonic Force,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ice-T,
Symarip,
Rod Modell,
Roxette,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nils Olav,
Jawbox,
Deepchord,
Cheater Slicks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Grass Roots,
Magma,
Camouflage,
Crispy Ambulance,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
World's Most,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Görl,
Organ,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crash Course in Science,
The Shadows of Knight,
Robert Wyatt,
The Doors,
Vladislav Delay,
Lindisfarne,
Warren Ellis,
The Fugs,
In Retrospect,
D'Angelo,
Prince Buster,
Fluxion,
Buzzcocks,
Main Source,
Marvin Gaye,
Minny Pops,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.