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 Netherlands and from Johannesburg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Max Romeo to the techno 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Quando Quango,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Görl,
Newcleus,
Byron Stingily,
Todd Rundgren,
The Buckinghams,
Derrick Morgan,
Ohio Players,
Mo-Dettes,
the Germs,
The Saints,
Kerri Chandler,
Jeff Mills,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barrington Levy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yaz,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang Starr,
Roxy Music,
The Moody Blues,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Flag,
The Red Krayola,
Funkadelic,
Robert Hood,
Deakin,
Bang On A Can,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minutemen,
Lyres,
Marc Almond,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
B.T. Express,
Susan Cadogan,
Patti Smith,
Lower 48,
Metal Thangz,
The Smoke,
John Lydon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deadbeat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The American Breed,
The Gun Club,
Nik Kershaw,
The Human League,
Altered Images,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Mummies,
Johnny Clarke,
The Beau Brummels,
Maurizio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Loose Ends,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.