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 Suriname and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 Goldenarms to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ohio Players,
The J.B.'s,
Crash Course in Science,
Minny Pops,
Bronski Beat,
Absolute Body Control,
JFA,
Silicon Teens,
Sunsets and Hearts,
X-Ray Spex,
Saccharine Trust,
Isaac Hayes,
Liliput,
New Order,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Certain Ratio,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cowsills,
Nils Olav,
Hashim,
Donald Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Grey Daturas,
Can,
Circle Jerks,
Leonard Cohen,
Organ,
Shoche,
The Victims,
Wasted Youth,
Eurythmics,
Royal Trux,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Slackers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Moody Blues,
Kevin Saunderson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gang of Four,
China Crisis,
Pylon,
Blossom Toes,
John Lydon,
Black Flag,
Faust,
The Count Five,
Marmalade,
Tears for Fears,
Judy Mowatt,
Warsaw,
Symarip,
The Saints,
Grauzone,
Cymande,
Moebius,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Sonics,
Khruangbin,
Gregory Isaacs,
EPMD,
Jacques Brel,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.