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 Papua New Guinea and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soulsonic Force to the techno 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Symarip,
The Saints,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Boz Scaggs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Urselle,
Icehouse,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
H. Thieme,
The Tremeloes,
Khruangbin,
Black Sheep,
Kaleidoscope,
Mission of Burma,
Brand Nubian,
Judy Mowatt,
Surgeon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lower 48,
Groovy Waters,
Freddie Wadling,
Aloha Tigers,
John Cale,
Delta 5,
Crooked Eye,
The Star Department,
Angry Samoans,
Warsaw,
Rosa Yemen,
Sun Ra,
The Offenders,
Peter and Kerry,
Roger Hodgson,
Deakin,
Sam Rivers,
Donny Hathaway,
Crash Course in Science,
The Beau Brummels,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
La Düsseldorf,
the Germs,
Vladislav Delay,
Tears for Fears,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Hood,
The Count Five,
Los Fastidios,
Moby Grape,
Tres Demented,
The Divine Comedy,
Neil Young,
Wire,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Das Ding,
The Motions,
Can,
PIL,
Minutemen,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.