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 Slovakia and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Depeche Mode to the punk 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cowsills,
The Smiths,
The Sonics,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mummies,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Star Department,
Tomorrow,
Yusef Lateef,
The Techniques,
Vainqueur,
Gerry Rafferty,
Davy DMX,
The Moleskins,
New Order,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cluster,
The Gun Club,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gories,
The Names,
Bill Near,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
H. Thieme,
Robert Görl,
The Dead C,
Cheater Slicks,
The Red Krayola,
Barrington Levy,
Roy Ayers,
Depeche Mode,
Grandmaster Flash,
Angry Samoans,
Popol Vuh,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Toasters,
Accadde A,
Thompson Twins,
The Count Five,
Reagan Youth,
The Music Machine,
Tommy Roe,
Eric Dolphy,
Intrusion,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sonic Youth,
Max Romeo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Khruangbin,
Pantytec,
Crime,
Unwound,
Brothers Johnson,
Crooked Eye,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Inner City,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Organ,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.