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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dave Gahan to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
John Cale,
the Human League,
Sonic Youth,
Make Up,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roxy Music,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Excepter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Monks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Charles Mingus,
Wolf Eyes,
Quantec,
Suicide,
Sparks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Spoonie Gee,
Maurizio,
K-Klass,
The Index,
The Sonics,
Urselle,
Sister Nancy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Duran Duran,
The Blackbyrds,
Main Source,
In Retrospect,
The Associates,
The Smiths,
Whodini,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dennis Brown,
Skarface,
The Smoke,
Anakelly,
B.T. Express,
Scrapy,
Tears for Fears,
The Martian,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marc Almond,
the Soft Cell,
the Slits,
Porter Ricks,
Erasure,
The Mojo Men,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
JFA,
Negative Approach,
Boogie Down Productions,
Max Romeo,
Easy Going,
Newcleus,
Pulsallama,
The Selecter,
Morten Harket,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.