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 Korea South and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Big Daddy Kane to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Soft Cell,
Mantronix,
Nik Kershaw,
Zero Boys,
The Index,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skaos,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scott Walker,
Minny Pops,
Marine Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Maurizio,
Fad Gadget,
Joensuu 1685,
PIL,
The Seeds,
Eddi Front,
Procol Harum,
Siglo XX,
48th St. Collective,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Howard Jones,
Moss Icon,
The Happenings,
Echospace,
the Germs,
Das Ding,
Grey Daturas,
The Leaves,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Wyatt,
Bluetip,
The J.B.'s,
Agitation Free,
In Retrospect,
Joey Negro,
T. Rex,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hasil Adkins,
The Standells,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eurythmics,
Johnny Clarke,
Second Layer,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Birthday Party,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Cramps,
New Age Steppers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fugs,
Jacques Brel,
Urselle,
FM Einheit,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rosa Yemen,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scrapy,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.