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 Namibia and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lou Christie,
The Zeros,
Whodini,
Reagan Youth,
The New Christs,
Tres Demented,
The Selecter,
Barrington Levy,
Spoonie Gee,
Shoche,
Amazonics,
Todd Terry,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Finger,
The Monochrome Set,
The Kinks,
Howard Jones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Malaria!,
Nick Fraelich,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Busters,
Wally Richardson,
Magazine,
Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Golliwogs,
Althea and Donna,
Zapp,
Schoolly D,
The Dead C,
Susan Cadogan,
Tim Buckley,
Aaron Thompson,
Sandy B,
Circle Jerks,
the Human League,
Oblivians,
Ronan,
Blake Baxter,
The Real Kids,
Simply Red,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Duran Duran,
The Dave Clark Five,
E-Dancer,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ponytail,
Max Romeo,
Faust,
Albert Ayler,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kaleidoscope,
Soul II Soul,
Nils Olav,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Infiniti,
Ossler,
Animal Collective,
Don Cherry,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.