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 Brunei and from New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eric Copeland to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Blancmange,
Malaria!,
Robert Görl,
David Bowie,
Simply Red,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sam Rivers,
Derrick Morgan,
kango's stein massive,
The Grass Roots,
Ossler,
The Vogues,
Alphaville,
Soft Machine,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers,
Ponytail,
Barbara Tucker,
Gastr Del Sol,
Camouflage,
Swans,
Gichy Dan,
Franke,
Tim Buckley,
Surgeon,
The Golliwogs,
Andrew Hill,
Lower 48,
CMW,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Outsiders,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Almond,
Godley & Creme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fear,
Tres Demented,
Das Ding,
These Immortal Souls,
Goldenarms,
E-Dancer,
The Leaves,
Unwound,
Stetsasonic,
Cybotron,
Althea and Donna,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mandrill,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Peter & Gordon,
Bob Dylan,
The Fortunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fluxion,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Mills,
UT,
Mo-Dettes,
Bill Wells,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.