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 Andorra and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Minny Pops to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Tres Demented,
Sparks,
Donald Byrd,
Bobby Womack,
The Remains,
Patti Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Fatback Band,
Ten City,
Minny Pops,
Radiohead,
Banda Bassotti,
The Walker Brothers,
David Bowie,
the Association,
Amon Düül,
Aswad,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fugs,
Smog,
Nico,
Gang of Four,
The Dirtbombs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rapeman,
David Axelrod,
Peter & Gordon,
Alton Ellis,
D'Angelo,
Eden Ahbez,
Anakelly,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lyres,
Saccharine Trust,
DJ Sneak,
Arab on Radar,
Mark Hollis,
Byron Stingily,
The Fortunes,
Amon Düül II,
Blancmange,
Wasted Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Bush Tetras,
Public Enemy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tomorrow,
Marmalade,
Jacques Brel,
Henry Cow,
The Seeds,
Parry Music,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Slave,
Kenny Larkin,
Sister Nancy,
The Pretty Things,
Roy Ayers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.