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 Mauritius 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Janne Schatter to the dance 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minnie Riperton,
The Standells,
Black Flag,
Skarface,
Toni Rubio,
Colin Newman,
Oneida,
The Five Americans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Barracudas,
The Moody Blues,
Kool Moe Dee,
Idris Muhammad,
Pere Ubu,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Connie Case,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric Copeland,
The Misunderstood,
Animal Collective,
Neu!,
Skaos,
Spoonie Gee,
Isaac Hayes,
Loose Ends,
Leonard Cohen,
Hardrive,
Mars,
Marmalade,
Essential Logic,
David Axelrod,
Ohio Players,
Stereo Dub,
Half Japanese,
Gang of Four,
Tears for Fears,
Motorama,
Franke,
Crash Course in Science,
Radio Birdman,
Scan 7,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tim Buckley,
Nik Kershaw,
OOIOO,
DNA,
Zapp,
The Names,
AZ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Residents,
Man Parrish,
Sight & Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Henry Cow,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.