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 Toronto.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The American Breed,
Maleditus Sound,
Half Japanese,
Arthur Verocai,
The New Christs,
Adolescents,
Fugazi,
Mandrill,
The Fuzztones,
Circle Jerks,
The Associates,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Tremeloes,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Accadde A,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fat Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Bill Wells,
a-ha,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Lydon,
Black Bananas,
Y Pants,
Joe Finger,
Eve St. Jones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Metal Thangz,
Audionom,
Pere Ubu,
The Cramps,
Fela Kuti,
Ronnie Foster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
World's Most,
The Busters,
Liliput,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oneida,
Harpers Bizarre,
Monks,
Erasure,
Jandek,
The Fugs,
Tres Demented,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Todd Rundgren,
Frankie Knuckles,
DJ Sneak,
Banda Bassotti,
Dual Sessions,
Warsaw,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Robert Wyatt,
Glenn Branca,
Skriet,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.