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 Turkmenistan and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Y Pants to the crunk 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Donny Hathaway,
Funky Four + One,
Bush Tetras,
The Neon Judgement,
Brand Nubian,
Saccharine Trust,
Yellowson,
Unrelated Segments,
Althea and Donna,
Buzzcocks,
the Normal,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vladislav Delay,
Ohio Players,
Duran Duran,
Iggy Pop,
Alice Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
Pole,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Smoke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crooked Eye,
Harmonia,
The Gap Band,
Camberwell Now,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Victims,
Wasted Youth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rotary Connection,
Robert Hood,
The Fugs,
Monks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Con Funk Shun,
Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Toni Rubio,
kango's stein massive,
Arab on Radar,
Glenn Branca,
Alton Ellis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crime,
Derrick Morgan,
Country Teasers,
Sandy B,
The Five Americans,
Nik Kershaw,
Leonard Cohen,
The Human League,
Sun City Girls,
The Count Five,
Pere Ubu,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.