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 Cameroon and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the dance 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Byron Stingily,
Sarah Menescal,
Kerri Chandler,
Marc Almond,
Talk Talk,
Eve St. Jones,
Monks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Gladiators,
X-101,
Sun Ra,
Susan Cadogan,
the Soft Cell,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Das Ding,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric Dolphy,
Khruangbin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tubeway Army,
Electric Prunes,
The Barracudas,
John Cale,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sister Nancy,
AZ,
Pagans,
Ronan,
Joensuu 1685,
The Names,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joy Division,
Henry Cow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barry Ungar,
Faust,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ten City,
Matthew Bourne,
New Order,
Yaz,
Echospace,
kango's stein massive,
Sonic Youth,
Visage,
Eurythmics,
The Toasters,
Ohio Players,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crooked Eye,
E-Dancer,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Second Layer,
Tomorrow,
The Electric Prunes,
Derrick Morgan,
Crash Course in Science,
Danielle Patucci,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Anakelly,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.