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 Mali and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 Roy Ayers to the techno 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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Bobby Byrd,
Pagans,
Q and Not U,
The Leaves,
Khruangbin,
Outsiders,
Rotary Connection,
Second Layer,
Faust,
Bauhaus,
Matthew Bourne,
Zapp,
Soft Cell,
The Cramps,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Swans,
The Star Department,
UT,
Arthur Verocai,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Wyatt,
Von Mondo,
Erasure,
The Divine Comedy,
Wasted Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
Roger Hodgson,
Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
The Moody Blues,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kool Moe Dee,
OOIOO,
Jimmy McGriff,
Q65,
Sister Nancy,
Jawbox,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minnie Riperton,
Judy Mowatt,
The Five Americans,
Peter and Kerry,
A Certain Ratio,
The Move,
Aloha Tigers,
Make Up,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stetsasonic,
Connie Case,
Reagan Youth,
T. Rex,
Stereo Dub,
Schoolly D,
Moss Icon,
48th St. Collective,
The Busters,
Absolute Body Control,
World's Most,
Loose Ends,
The Knickerbockers,
Byron Stingily,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.