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 Barbados and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Music Machine to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pulsallama,
Hardrive,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Germs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dawn Penn,
Soft Cell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fat Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
June Days,
Piero Umiliani,
Barrington Levy,
Youth Brigade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultravox,
John Foxx,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Buckinghams,
The Busters,
The Dead C,
Index,
The Leaves,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
KRS-One,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kayak,
Can,
Harmonia,
Sound Behaviour,
D'Angelo,
The Golliwogs,
Ponytail,
Hot Snakes,
Blake Baxter,
Loose Ends,
Mark Hollis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Excepter,
The Monochrome Set,
The Walker Brothers,
James White and The Blacks,
Sixth Finger,
Amon Düül,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
Colin Newman,
These Immortal Souls,
Fela Kuti,
Bootsy Collins,
Roxy Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kaleidoscope,
48th St. Collective,
Lakeside,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.