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 Liechtenstein and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 La Düsseldorf to the electroclash 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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Harmonia,
The Stooges,
Stetsasonic,
Jesper Dahlback,
MC5,
Tomorrow,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Blues Magoos,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Sheep,
Average White Band,
Aswad,
Quadrant,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swell Maps,
Robert Görl,
Joey Negro,
The Gap Band,
H. Thieme,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Mad Mike,
Max Romeo,
Reuben Wilson,
Half Japanese,
Whodini,
Lyres,
Television,
Basic Channel,
Jandek,
UT,
Al Stewart,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rekid,
These Immortal Souls,
Fat Boys,
Monolake,
Eric B and Rakim,
Motorama,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wally Richardson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hashim,
Brand Nubian,
Radiohead,
Icehouse,
Shoche,
Mo-Dettes,
Sarah Menescal,
James White and The Blacks,
X-Ray Spex,
Tom Boy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Depeche Mode,
Ronnie Foster,
Severed Heads,
Tres Demented,
L. Decosne,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.