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 Saudi Arabia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Nile Rodgers 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 John Coltrane 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Brick,
Popol Vuh,
Arab on Radar,
Peter and Kerry,
Morten Harket,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Lydon,
Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pussy Galore,
Scientists,
World's Most,
Man Parrish,
Matthew Bourne,
JFA,
Ronan,
Alison Limerick,
The Dirtbombs,
Negative Approach,
Saccharine Trust,
Robert Wyatt,
New Age Steppers,
Deepchord,
Ice-T,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Colin Newman,
New York Dolls,
Mo-Dettes,
Mars,
Cameo,
Von Mondo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dennis Brown,
The Litter,
Swell Maps,
Tres Demented,
Joey Negro,
Kevin Saunderson,
Franke,
Rotary Connection,
Freddie Wadling,
The Knickerbockers,
Spoonie Gee,
The Leaves,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moebius,
X-102,
Lightning Bolt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Birthday Party,
Metal Thangz,
Drexciya,
Rod Modell,
Rekid,
Bobby Sherman,
Dead Boys,
Electric Prunes,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.