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 Mozambique and from Bremen.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Steve Hackett to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Skaos,
Royal Trux,
Funky Four + One,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wolf Eyes,
Infiniti,
The Dirtbombs,
Subhumans,
The Fire Engines,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wasted Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
The Music Machine,
Newcleus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Main Source,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kayak,
Intrusion,
The Mojo Men,
Dennis Brown,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobby Byrd,
Niagra,
Audionom,
The Red Krayola,
Basic Channel,
The Invisible,
The Beau Brummels,
Josef K,
The Residents,
Michelle Simonal,
Glenn Branca,
Sällskapet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Icehouse,
Carl Craig,
Grauzone,
The Motions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
DNA,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Girls At Our Best!,
World's Most,
Aswad,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Henry Cow,
OOIOO,
Zero Boys,
The Human League,
John Lydon,
Ossler,
The Divine Comedy,
Sam Rivers,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.