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 Swaziland and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 Tomorrow to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario 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?
Lightning Bolt,
The Barracudas,
Kas Product,
Brand Nubian,
Jacques Brel,
The Walker Brothers,
Cybotron,
Pere Ubu,
Todd Terry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Spoonie Gee,
Janne Schatter,
a-ha,
The Blues Magoos,
Wings,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Malaria!,
Tres Demented,
Marine Girls,
D'Angelo,
Howard Jones,
The Searchers,
Darondo,
These Immortal Souls,
The Associates,
Maurizio,
Monolake,
Joy Division,
Von Mondo,
David Axelrod,
The Monks,
Dead Boys,
Jawbox,
Basic Channel,
New Order,
Cecil Taylor,
Deepchord,
Hashim,
Albert Ayler,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gun Club,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cowsills,
The United States of America,
Blake Baxter,
Anthony Braxton,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sugar Minott,
Fat Boys,
Talk Talk,
Sister Nancy,
Joe Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
Mark Hollis,
Rufus Thomas,
8 Eyed Spy,
Donald Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gong,
June Days,
The Move,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.