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 Haiti and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron 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 Qualms to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
X-101,
Tom Boy,
In Retrospect,
David Bowie,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warren Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Duran Duran,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cramps,
Gang Starr,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
F. McDonald,
Vainqueur,
Outsiders,
The Velvet Underground,
R.M.O.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Slits,
Ituana,
Radio Birdman,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Pretty Things,
Josef K,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Howard Jones,
Robert Hood,
Can,
The Angels of Light,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Absolute Body Control,
Kool Moe Dee,
Isaac Hayes,
the Swans,
Lower 48,
Lakeside,
Neil Young,
Eric B and Rakim,
T. Rex,
Sun City Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Drexciya,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Moby Grape,
The Wake,
Deakin,
Bob Dylan,
Goldenarms,
Marmalade,
Subhumans,
Monks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Knickerbockers,
Barrington Levy,
Aaron Thompson,
Babytalk,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.