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 Uruguay and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Au Pairs to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Smoke,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Evens,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jeru the Damaja,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Monks,
The Beau Brummels,
Bob Dylan,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
ABC,
Amazonics,
Make Up,
Liliput,
The Electric Prunes,
Suicide,
Oneida,
Absolute Body Control,
Jacques Brel,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Zeros,
Procol Harum,
Terry Callier,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Peter & Gordon,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Christie,
Fat Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pantaleimon,
Electric Prunes,
The Standells,
Los Fastidios,
Cheater Slicks,
The Kinks,
Warren Ellis,
The Angels of Light,
Subhumans,
Alphaville,
Soft Cell,
Scratch Acid,
Joyce Sims,
Whodini,
The Barracudas,
Accadde A,
Matthew Bourne,
Sex Pistols,
Steve Hackett,
Silicon Teens,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.