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 Turkey and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Doors to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Sound Behaviour,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marine Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Liliput,
Shoche,
Nils Olav,
Minnie Riperton,
Lyres,
Piero Umiliani,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Last Poets,
Aaron Thompson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bang On A Can,
Au Pairs,
The Electric Prunes,
Roxy Music,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Angels of Light,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fall,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cheater Slicks,
One Last Wish,
kango's stein massive,
Excepter,
Swans,
Siglo XX,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scratch Acid,
Pylon,
The Motions,
The Five Americans,
Motorama,
Amon Düül,
Tres Demented,
The Wake,
R.M.O.,
Pussy Galore,
Rotary Connection,
Ultra Naté,
Magazine,
KRS-One,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Neon Judgement,
The Names,
Echospace,
Altered Images,
Thee Headcoats,
James White and The Blacks,
Fugazi,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eve St. Jones,
Bauhaus,
The Durutti Column,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.