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 Romania and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Excepter to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Rosa Yemen,
Loose Ends,
The Dirtbombs,
The Trojans,
Black Pus,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Selecter,
The Smoke,
Visage,
Ultimate Spinach,
Procol Harum,
Johnny Osbourne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terry Callier,
The Star Department,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Spandau Ballet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hardrive,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Susan Cadogan,
a-ha,
Radiopuhelimet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pagans,
Tom Boy,
Michelle Simonal,
the Normal,
Massinfluence,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Evens,
Thompson Twins,
DJ Style,
Moss Icon,
Eden Ahbez,
Ten City,
Thee Headcoats,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Von Mondo,
Public Enemy,
Dawn Penn,
Minnie Riperton,
Marcia Griffiths,
Excepter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Trumans Water,
Yusef Lateef,
Funkadelic,
Blake Baxter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Peter and Kerry,
Marvin Gaye,
Make Up,
Lakeside,
Chrome,
The Gun Club,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.