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 Macedonia and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the crunk 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aloha Tigers,
Desert Stars,
Yaz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thompson Twins,
Underground Resistance,
Soft Machine,
Au Pairs,
The Kinks,
Spoonie Gee,
Bill Near,
The Gun Club,
Charles Mingus,
Sällskapet,
Interpol,
Max Romeo,
John Cale,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fugs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Shoche,
Robert Hood,
Iggy Pop,
Television,
A Certain Ratio,
Suburban Knight,
Gang of Four,
Zapp,
Ken Boothe,
Cecil Taylor,
B.T. Express,
Colin Newman,
Matthew Bourne,
Con Funk Shun,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sandy B,
Sex Pistols,
The Motions,
Alton Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ice-T,
The Fortunes,
The Zeros,
Urselle,
Pylon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Green,
James White and The Blacks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bang On A Can,
Black Bananas,
Deadbeat,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eli Mardock,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Shuggie Otis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joy Division,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.