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 Turkmenistan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Sexual Harrassment,
Heaven 17,
Black Flag,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Monks,
Livin' Joy,
Yellowson,
Underground Resistance,
This Heat,
Steve Hackett,
R.M.O.,
Hasil Adkins,
Quantec,
Black Sheep,
Ohio Players,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Urselle,
Joey Negro,
Suicide,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flash Fearless,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Byron Stingily,
Harmonia,
The Misunderstood,
Nils Olav,
Second Layer,
Sun Ra,
Depeche Mode,
Sonic Youth,
The Techniques,
Niagra,
Dorothy Ashby,
MDC,
The Real Kids,
The Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arthur Verocai,
Delta 5,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Moleskins,
The Moody Blues,
Masters at Work,
Dark Day,
The Dirtbombs,
10cc,
Gang Starr,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DJ Sneak,
Ice-T,
cv313,
Ponytail,
Blake Baxter,
Rakim,
Gong,
Todd Terry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.