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 Guinea-Bissau and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Aaron Thompson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Siglo XX,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Royal Trux,
Rod Modell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Gladiators,
Pagans,
Kool Moe Dee,
The J.B.'s,
The Standells,
Model 500,
Marc Almond,
The Tremeloes,
Byron Stingily,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Little Man,
Colin Newman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Silicon Teens,
Roxy Music,
ABC,
Ralphi Rosario,
Urselle,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Quando Quango,
Clear Light,
Deepchord,
Ronan,
Ten City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mark Hollis,
The Motions,
The Dirtbombs,
Massinfluence,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Magma,
Porter Ricks,
Black Bananas,
Crash Course in Science,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
10cc,
Swell Maps,
Oblivians,
Bobby Sherman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wasted Youth,
The Leaves,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lindisfarne,
Alice Coltrane,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Kinks,
Nas,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.