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 Bulgaria and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Neu! to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
a-ha,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gichy Dan,
Gabor Szabo,
Colin Newman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Moon,
Marc Almond,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dead C,
Los Fastidios,
Rotary Connection,
Skriet,
Slick Rick,
Girls At Our Best!,
D'Angelo,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cure,
The Grass Roots,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ornette Coleman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Litter,
Sex Pistols,
Lightning Bolt,
The Sonics,
John Lydon,
the Slits,
Urselle,
The Tremeloes,
The Misunderstood,
Interpol,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Warsaw,
Soul Sonic Force,
Echospace,
Lalann,
Dave Gahan,
Depeche Mode,
One Last Wish,
Carl Craig,
Ludus,
Arthur Verocai,
The Velvet Underground,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Excepter,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Toasters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Second Layer,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DNA,
Make Up,
Sällskapet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Bananas,
The Barracudas,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.