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 Russia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the funk 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
the Soft Cell,
Whodini,
the Bar-Kays,
Make Up,
Kool Moe Dee,
In Retrospect,
OOIOO,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lightning Bolt,
Shoche,
Clear Light,
David Axelrod,
Ornette Coleman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stetsasonic,
Royal Trux,
E-Dancer,
Circle Jerks,
the Sonics,
The Offenders,
Funkadelic,
Lou Reed,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Cramps,
Slick Rick,
Desert Stars,
Scratch Acid,
Vainqueur,
Gichy Dan,
Duran Duran,
John Holt,
Donald Byrd,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mark Hollis,
the Swans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stereo Dub,
Ultravox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June Days,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
Adolescents,
Slave,
Mission of Burma,
Johnny Clarke,
Faraquet,
The Techniques,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tears for Fears,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oneida,
Kerri Chandler,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neil Young,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.