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 Zambia and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum 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 The Smoke 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Moody Blues,
Brick,
Crash Course in Science,
Newcleus,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sound,
The Victims,
The Divine Comedy,
Spandau Ballet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mr. Review,
Rod Modell,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Leaves,
Quadrant,
Tomorrow,
The Count Five,
The Real Kids,
The Smoke,
Ornette Coleman,
Lakeside,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ronan,
Morten Harket,
Sex Pistols,
The Selecter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fortunes,
Chrome,
Japan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Normal,
John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
Grauzone,
Derrick May,
Warren Ellis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Index,
These Immortal Souls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Faust,
Echospace,
The Dead C,
The Cure,
Sight & Sound,
John Foxx,
Easy Going,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Television,
Joyce Sims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Inner City,
Harry Pussy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Buckinghams,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.