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 Latvia and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Gang Gang Dance to the electroclash 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scientists,
Quadrant,
Sex Pistols,
Hasil Adkins,
Deakin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Procol Harum,
Swans,
Slick Rick,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Make Up,
Al Stewart,
Metal Thangz,
Marcia Griffiths,
cv313,
Hoover,
Ice-T,
China Crisis,
Jeff Mills,
The Mummies,
Dual Sessions,
The Doors,
Television Personalities,
Supertramp,
Desert Stars,
Derrick May,
Pole,
Don Cherry,
The Modern Lovers,
Qualms,
Eurythmics,
Subhumans,
Peter and Kerry,
Joe Finger,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Main Source,
Scion,
Bauhaus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Minutemen,
the Swans,
the Bar-Kays,
The American Breed,
Harry Pussy,
Tubeway Army,
Eve St. Jones,
Sound Behaviour,
Kaleidoscope,
U.S. Maple,
The Searchers,
Mo-Dettes,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultra Naté,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dead C,
Black Bananas,
The Index,
Dark Day,
One Last Wish,
B.T. Express,
DNA,
The United States of America,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.