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 Pakistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar 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 Lyres to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Youth Brigade,
Ponytail,
Colin Newman,
Todd Rundgren,
Technova,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tim Buckley,
Brick,
Scratch Acid,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Motions,
Archie Shepp,
Country Teasers,
The Birthday Party,
Max Romeo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Soft Cell,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lebanon Hanover,
EPMD,
Susan Cadogan,
Minutemen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June of 44,
The Residents,
Letta Mbulu,
MDC,
Wally Richardson,
La Düsseldorf,
The Divine Comedy,
Blake Baxter,
T.S.O.L.,
Simply Red,
Aswad,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Boredoms,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flipper,
Deakin,
Crooked Eye,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Man Parrish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Al Stewart,
Ituana,
David Bowie,
Howard Jones,
Flamin' Groovies,
Drexciya,
Godley & Creme,
Stiv Bators,
Pussy Galore,
Moss Icon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.