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 Seychelles and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the techno 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
The Fall,
The Divine Comedy,
Bang On A Can,
Excepter,
Index,
Rekid,
CMW,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
K-Klass,
kango's stein massive,
Cluster,
The Young Rascals,
Godley & Creme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Erasure,
The Five Americans,
the Normal,
Slave,
Yaz,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ten City,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minutemen,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bill Wells,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Howard Jones,
OOIOO,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Qualms,
Model 500,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Bananas,
T. Rex,
The Angels of Light,
Fela Kuti,
Boogie Down Productions,
The American Breed,
Make Up,
Ice-T,
Nirvana,
Vladislav Delay,
Al Stewart,
Prince Buster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ronnie Foster,
Sound Behaviour,
Hasil Adkins,
Alton Ellis,
X-Ray Spex,
The Black Dice,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fear,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dead Boys,
New Order,
Depeche Mode,
Lyres,
Marvin Gaye,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.