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 Belarus and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Todd Rundgren to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
The Toasters,
Shuggie Otis,
Saccharine Trust,
Roger Hodgson,
Bush Tetras,
Tommy Roe,
Maleditus Sound,
The Black Dice,
Oneida,
Altered Images,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Todd Terry,
Echospace,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dawn Penn,
Brass Construction,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Can,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arab on Radar,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Johnny Clarke,
Jacques Brel,
Sällskapet,
The Techniques,
Byron Stingily,
Tomorrow,
Warren Ellis,
Lower 48,
Minny Pops,
David Bowie,
New Order,
The Leaves,
Ken Boothe,
Lyres,
Aural Exciters,
The Misunderstood,
Television Personalities,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Star Department,
Harpers Bizarre,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Zero Boys,
X-101,
Robert Wyatt,
The Selecter,
The Neon Judgement,
Danielle Patucci,
Kerri Chandler,
Harry Pussy,
Basic Channel,
Man Parrish,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-102,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.