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 Poland and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Aural Exciters to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
New Age Steppers,
MDC,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roxette,
Eli Mardock,
Banda Bassotti,
Mandrill,
Ossler,
Los Fastidios,
China Crisis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Mighty Diamonds,
H. Thieme,
Sam Rivers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Residents,
Anthony Braxton,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Erykah Badu,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Stooges,
Alice Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
ABC,
Fear,
Eric B and Rakim,
Anakelly,
Ludus,
Echospace,
Rapeman,
Peter & Gordon,
Big Daddy Kane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Visage,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Sherman,
Lakeside,
The Toasters,
Rosa Yemen,
Groovy Waters,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Guru Guru,
The Trojans,
Jawbox,
Howard Jones,
Main Source,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Names,
Terry Callier,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sun City Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boredoms,
Popol Vuh,
Donny Hathaway,
Faust,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.