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 Oman and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Blackbyrds to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Gong,
Swell Maps,
The Moody Blues,
the Swans,
Bush Tetras,
Fluxion,
John Coltrane,
The Kinks,
Alice Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Visage,
The Remains,
T.S.O.L.,
X-Ray Spex,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moleskins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Moss Icon,
Parry Music,
Ultimate Spinach,
Talk Talk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sixth Finger,
The Smoke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Model 500,
Black Flag,
Whodini,
Sonny Sharrock,
a-ha,
Junior Murvin,
EPMD,
Popol Vuh,
Wasted Youth,
Altered Images,
Lou Christie,
The Buckinghams,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Zero Boys,
Interpol,
Eddi Front,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Wyatt,
Gabor Szabo,
Lucky Dragons,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Brand Nubian,
Mantronix,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Babytalk,
Country Teasers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
E-Dancer,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joy Division,
Symarip,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.