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 South Africa and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dirtbombs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jawbox,
Kas Product,
The Grass Roots,
Radio Birdman,
Can,
The Associates,
The Zeros,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Fania All-Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Smooth,
Eddi Front,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Gang Dance,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Walker Brothers,
Grauzone,
Gang Green,
Juan Atkins,
Procol Harum,
The Toasters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DNA,
ABC,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Association,
Joe Finger,
Kenny Larkin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Trumans Water,
Sällskapet,
Andrew Hill,
Jerry's Kids,
In Retrospect,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Colin Newman,
The Beau Brummels,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Five Americans,
Quantec,
Desert Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
CMW,
The Doors,
Sun City Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Second Layer,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxette,
Audionom,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alphaville,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.