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 Cuba and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 the Slits to the rap 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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Jacques Brel,
T.S.O.L.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Trojans,
The Buckinghams,
Kayak,
Skaos,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fatback Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DNA,
Barrington Levy,
Connie Case,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joy Division,
Delta 5,
The Cowsills,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Suicide,
Marc Almond,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brick,
Qualms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kaleidoscope,
Nico,
Sun City Girls,
Bad Manners,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Velvet Underground,
E-Dancer,
Loose Ends,
Kerri Chandler,
Pere Ubu,
Letta Mbulu,
The Modern Lovers,
Donny Hathaway,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Last Poets,
Simply Red,
Amazonics,
Sister Nancy,
Nirvana,
The Kinks,
The Fugs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Audionom,
EPMD,
48th St. Collective,
Mr. Review,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Coltrane,
Graham Central Station,
The Standells,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Busters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Popol Vuh,
Drexciya,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.