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 Iraq and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Tim Buckley 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a mellotron 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fall,
The Walker Brothers,
The Martian,
Toni Rubio,
The Trojans,
Connie Case,
David Axelrod,
Rod Modell,
Robert Görl,
Mr. Review,
The Mojo Men,
Scratch Acid,
Wolf Eyes,
Danielle Patucci,
The Vogues,
Slick Rick,
Aural Exciters,
Hoover,
Lalo Schifrin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Susan Cadogan,
The Knickerbockers,
Monolake,
The Evens,
Easy Going,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Wings,
China Crisis,
The Blackbyrds,
Roxy Music,
Eurythmics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rekid,
Chris & Cosey,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Cell,
The Smiths,
Kerri Chandler,
Parry Music,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Qualms,
Rites of Spring,
Howard Jones,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gories,
Royal Trux,
H. Thieme,
Main Source,
Whodini,
Janne Schatter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tubeway Army,
F. McDonald,
The Saints,
The Sonics,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.