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 Swaziland and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Brass Construction to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Görl,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bluetip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Janne Schatter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Pus,
The Saints,
Barbara Tucker,
Sight & Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wire,
A Certain Ratio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
OOIOO,
Rod Modell,
Josef K,
Royal Trux,
Soul II Soul,
The Seeds,
Boredoms,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang of Four,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The American Breed,
Agitation Free,
Matthew Halsall,
The Walker Brothers,
Cameo,
Gong,
Public Enemy,
Jacob Miller,
Deakin,
Easy Going,
Unwound,
Goldenarms,
China Crisis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soul Sonic Force,
Youth Brigade,
Hot Snakes,
CMW,
Piero Umiliani,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Suburban Knight,
Motorama,
DJ Sneak,
Albert Ayler,
The Evens,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cure,
Outsiders,
Mary Jane Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Skriet,
Von Mondo,
Yusef Lateef,
New York Dolls,
The J.B.'s,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sugar Minott,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.