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 Australia and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sixth Finger to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub 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?
The Monks,
Nico,
Sarah Menescal,
Eden Ahbez,
Ponytail,
Flipper,
Sam Rivers,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Angels of Light,
The Cure,
Cameo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marvin Gaye,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bluetip,
PIL,
Dead Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ossler,
Los Fastidios,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Popol Vuh,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Howard Jones,
F. McDonald,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lou Reed,
Y Pants,
Pantytec,
Tomorrow,
Yellowson,
The Fire Engines,
The Martian,
Yaz,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Main Source,
Brass Construction,
The Selecter,
Al Stewart,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
K-Klass,
Sister Nancy,
Second Layer,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Gladiators,
Sun City Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lou Christie,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Neon Judgement,
Dennis Brown,
Rotary Connection,
The Tremeloes,
The Misunderstood,
Harpers Bizarre,
Newcleus,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.