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 Nauru and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare 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 8 Eyed Spy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
New York Dolls,
These Immortal Souls,
Los Fastidios,
Reagan Youth,
Eve St. Jones,
the Association,
Iggy Pop,
Parry Music,
The Toasters,
Gong,
Man Eating Sloth,
ABBA,
Mark Hollis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barrington Levy,
David McCallum,
Q65,
John Lydon,
Nils Olav,
Camouflage,
Byron Stingily,
Soulsonic Force,
The Searchers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Cale,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Thompson Twins,
R.M.O.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Aswad,
Eric Copeland,
Easy Going,
The Mojo Men,
Surgeon,
The Black Dice,
Ultra Naté,
MC5,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rufus Thomas,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mummies,
Altered Images,
T.S.O.L.,
Sandy B,
L. Decosne,
Depeche Mode,
the Soft Cell,
Pylon,
The Dead C,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Deakin,
Desert Stars,
Eric Dolphy,
Toni Rubio,
Sun Ra,
The Fall,
Prince Buster,
Icehouse,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.