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 Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Standells to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
John Cale,
The Busters,
Donald Byrd,
Qualms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
David Bowie,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Green,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rod Modell,
The Last Poets,
Erasure,
Soul II Soul,
Youth Brigade,
The Searchers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harry Pussy,
Donny Hathaway,
The Vogues,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Procol Harum,
Rosa Yemen,
Excepter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Piero Umiliani,
Vainqueur,
June Days,
The Birthday Party,
The Star Department,
Robert Görl,
Funky Four + One,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pulsallama,
Carl Craig,
Bauhaus,
Warsaw,
Blake Baxter,
Can,
Black Pus,
the Bar-Kays,
Warren Ellis,
Ituana,
Babytalk,
Lightning Bolt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultra Naté,
Sandy B,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultravox,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Brick,
The Victims,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.