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 Andorra and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Erasure to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Bush Tetras,
Connie Case,
Prince Buster,
The Music Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mandrill,
The Golliwogs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scientists,
Royal Trux,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Maurizio,
Derrick May,
The Fire Engines,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Delta 5,
The Barracudas,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Guru Guru,
Anakelly,
Stereo Dub,
Archie Shepp,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dave Clark Five,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cymande,
Excepter,
Niagra,
Saccharine Trust,
Thee Headcoats,
The Zeros,
Dawn Penn,
Grauzone,
Suicide,
Circle Jerks,
Underground Resistance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mummies,
China Crisis,
The Busters,
Dual Sessions,
The Martian,
Radio Birdman,
Babytalk,
Youth Brigade,
Alton Ellis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Robert Görl,
Wasted Youth,
Peter and Kerry,
Rekid,
Can,
the Soft Cell,
Harry Pussy,
The Seeds,
The Beau Brummels,
Laurel Aitken,
Skarface,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.