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 Mauritius and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
The Victims,
Danielle Patucci,
Talk Talk,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Porter Ricks,
Sun City Girls,
Wire,
Carl Craig,
Kayak,
Fat Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fortunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Slits,
The Blackbyrds,
The Raincoats,
The Gladiators,
Piero Umiliani,
Kenny Larkin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
John Foxx,
Derrick May,
Royal Trux,
Masters at Work,
Newcleus,
Bobby Sherman,
Pere Ubu,
Hardrive,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gap Band,
Schoolly D,
The American Breed,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Franke,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Alison Limerick,
Cameo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fire Engines,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Angels of Light,
The Happenings,
Babytalk,
Aural Exciters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mark Hollis,
Chrome,
Jandek,
Eli Mardock,
Freddie Wadling,
Crooked Eye,
Can,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.