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 Nigeria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Michael McDonald 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 Five Americans to the jazz 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Danielle Patucci,
Slick Rick,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oblivians,
T.S.O.L.,
Pierre Henry,
The Cowsills,
ABC,
Pagans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Livin' Joy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Anakelly,
Max Romeo,
Soulsonic Force,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Television Personalities,
The Sonics,
Laurel Aitken,
John Coltrane,
Schoolly D,
DJ Sneak,
Pharoah Sanders,
Agitation Free,
Tom Boy,
Moby Grape,
The Offenders,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Pop Group,
The Techniques,
Sonic Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Nas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Birthday Party,
Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Rundgren,
Rakim,
Sam Rivers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deadbeat,
Ludus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Angry Samoans,
Adolescents,
Bill Near,
Jerry's Kids,
A Certain Ratio,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suburban Knight,
Frankie Knuckles,
Colin Newman,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yazoo,
Black Pus,
Loose Ends,
Bad Manners,
Niagra,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.