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 Trinidad & Tobago and from London.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Los Fastidios to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bill Wells,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sandy B,
Tres Demented,
DJ Sneak,
The Knickerbockers,
Juan Atkins,
Matthew Bourne,
The Mummies,
Faraquet,
Colin Newman,
The Golliwogs,
The Real Kids,
The Skatalites,
Nation of Ulysses,
Al Stewart,
Trumans Water,
Niagra,
Soul II Soul,
The Last Poets,
The Pretty Things,
The Toasters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Vogues,
Rotary Connection,
Kas Product,
The Modern Lovers,
MC5,
Minnie Riperton,
Quadrant,
Organ,
Joyce Sims,
David Axelrod,
The Saints,
Maurizio,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Bananas,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wire,
The Fugs,
Ken Boothe,
Excepter,
The Blackbyrds,
Thompson Twins,
Theoretical Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers,
Arab on Radar,
Kenny Larkin,
Fear,
The Invisible,
Con Funk Shun,
Joy Division,
The Beau Brummels,
Brick,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fugazi,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.