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 Afghanistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Rod Modell,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mission of Burma,
Audionom,
Alphaville,
Aaron Thompson,
Suicide,
The Star Department,
Index,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gong,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Hood,
Easy Going,
Surgeon,
The Fortunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Zeros,
Average White Band,
Glenn Branca,
Yellowson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Motions,
Janne Schatter,
Oneida,
Tom Boy,
Sparks,
the Bar-Kays,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nik Kershaw,
Qualms,
Frankie Knuckles,
Boz Scaggs,
Symarip,
Silicon Teens,
Maurizio,
Minny Pops,
Rakim,
a-ha,
Inner City,
Kas Product,
The Moody Blues,
Cal Tjader,
The Fall,
UT,
X-Ray Spex,
Simply Red,
Eli Mardock,
Slick Rick,
the Normal,
World's Most,
Mark Hollis,
Marc Almond,
Ice-T,
Eric Dolphy,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.