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 New Zealand and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Theoretical Girls to the dance 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Eden Ahbez,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Brick,
Black Flag,
Bang On A Can,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Copeland,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mad Mike,
Ronan,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sex Pistols,
Brand Nubian,
Agent Orange,
The Count Five,
Frankie Knuckles,
Q and Not U,
The Doors,
Roger Hodgson,
The Buckinghams,
Vainqueur,
Tommy Roe,
Fear,
Ponytail,
Pulsallama,
Thee Headcoats,
John Lydon,
The Divine Comedy,
One Last Wish,
Young Marble Giants,
Bob Dylan,
Cameo,
Crooked Eye,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Music Machine,
Soul II Soul,
The Kinks,
Lindisfarne,
OOIOO,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fugs,
48th St. Collective,
Deadbeat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
EPMD,
Johnny Clarke,
The Electric Prunes,
Inner City,
Nas,
Letta Mbulu,
Aswad,
The Doobie Brothers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Peter and Kerry,
Sam Rivers,
Steve Hackett,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.