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 Thailand and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Howard Jones to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fall,
Amon Düül II,
Vainqueur,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Maleditus Sound,
the Sonics,
Urselle,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Radio Birdman,
The Modern Lovers,
Brick,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Pantaleimon,
Peter and Kerry,
Young Marble Giants,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeff Mills,
Archie Shepp,
Public Enemy,
The Dead C,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Saints,
Nik Kershaw,
Liliput,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Von Mondo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sandy B,
Yusef Lateef,
The Leaves,
Suicide,
Ituana,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lee Hazlewood,
China Crisis,
Moby Grape,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Amazonics,
Warsaw,
Spandau Ballet,
The Durutti Column,
Inner City,
Yazoo,
Ice-T,
Symarip,
Outsiders,
Bad Manners,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Desert Stars,
Main Source,
Negative Approach,
Camouflage,
Con Funk Shun,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fatback Band,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.