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 Niger and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Remains to the punk 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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
ABBA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crispy Ambulance,
Zero Boys,
DNA,
Derrick May,
Popol Vuh,
Eric Dolphy,
Theoretical Girls,
Bill Near,
New York Dolls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scientists,
The Alarm Clocks,
Duran Duran,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dead Boys,
Gastr Del Sol,
Unwound,
Graham Central Station,
Pierre Henry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amazonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Godley & Creme,
Peter and Kerry,
Quantec,
Albert Ayler,
Iggy Pop,
The Barracudas,
Arthur Verocai,
Soulsonic Force,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aaron Thompson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Raincoats,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Glenn Branca,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Green,
Sugar Minott,
Eden Ahbez,
Motorama,
John Foxx,
The Offenders,
The Durutti Column,
Ituana,
Black Flag,
Eli Mardock,
Hasil Adkins,
Sam Rivers,
Grauzone,
Bob Dylan,
Royal Trux,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moby Grape,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pole,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Leonard Cohen,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.