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 Laos and from Sao Paulo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Y Pants to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Zapp,
Prince Buster,
Kayak,
Delta 5,
Crispian St. Peters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Man Parrish,
a-ha,
Josef K,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skriet,
Sex Pistols,
Funkadelic,
Skaos,
Black Flag,
Drive Like Jehu,
Interpol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Peter and Kerry,
Rod Modell,
Lucky Dragons,
Spandau Ballet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Traffic Nightmare,
E-Dancer,
FM Einheit,
Blake Baxter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bronski Beat,
The Offenders,
The Red Krayola,
Saccharine Trust,
The Dirtbombs,
James White and The Blacks,
Deepchord,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Maleditus Sound,
Yaz,
Marmalade,
The Young Rascals,
Davy DMX,
B.T. Express,
Lou Christie,
Mantronix,
Tim Buckley,
Oblivians,
Sarah Menescal,
Nick Fraelich,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Danielle Patucci,
Hardrive,
Tears for Fears,
Sun Ra,
the Bar-Kays,
John Holt,
Public Image Ltd.,
Swell Maps,
Groovy Waters,
Absolute Body Control,
Laurel Aitken,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.