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 United States and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Lou Reed 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the dance 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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
F. McDonald,
China Crisis,
Jerry's Kids,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Visage,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
H. Thieme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sound Behaviour,
Pulsallama,
Niagra,
Sam Rivers,
Slick Rick,
Massinfluence,
Swell Maps,
Zero Boys,
The Remains,
Bronski Beat,
Tomorrow,
Faust,
Suicide,
Michelle Simonal,
David Axelrod,
Harmonia,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Warsaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Busters,
Albert Ayler,
Mandrill,
X-101,
The Names,
Idris Muhammad,
New York Dolls,
Trumans Water,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Electric Prunes,
The Invisible,
Brand Nubian,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glambeats Corp.,
This Heat,
Lyres,
Wire,
Rakim,
The Leaves,
Minor Threat,
Model 500,
Can,
Sister Nancy,
Clear Light,
The Sound,
Zapp,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hoover,
Yazoo,
Dead Boys,
Roxette,
Yellowson,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.