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 Korea North and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Shanghai.
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 oboe 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the rap 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Rites of Spring,
Joy Division,
Scott Walker,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Black Dice,
Blake Baxter,
Janne Schatter,
Icehouse,
Gabor Szabo,
Eve St. Jones,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sällskapet,
Silicon Teens,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The American Breed,
8 Eyed Spy,
Malaria!,
Ten City,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Trojans,
Rod Modell,
The Dead C,
The Electric Prunes,
Hot Snakes,
The Busters,
Royal Trux,
Ice-T,
Animal Collective,
Monolake,
June Days,
John Lydon,
Bang On A Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Association,
Barry Ungar,
Wolf Eyes,
Kerri Chandler,
Nik Kershaw,
The Beau Brummels,
L. Decosne,
Todd Terry,
The Buckinghams,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Stockholm Monsters,
A Certain Ratio,
The Human League,
Symarip,
OOIOO,
Lou Christie,
cv313,
Pere Ubu,
Panda Bear,
Half Japanese,
The Blues Magoos,
DJ Sneak,
Sandy B,
the Swans,
Mark Hollis,
Mo-Dettes,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.