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 Papua New Guinea and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar 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 Deadbeat to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
the Bar-Kays,
Shoche,
Marine Girls,
Lebanon Hanover,
June Days,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roy Ayers,
Arthur Verocai,
Audionom,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Black Dice,
Henry Cow,
The Kinks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rotary Connection,
Connie Case,
The Toasters,
The Fuzztones,
Fluxion,
The Divine Comedy,
Eurythmics,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Move,
Whodini,
Bluetip,
Cybotron,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Index,
Vainqueur,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jacques Brel,
Bizarre Inc.,
EPMD,
Fugazi,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Teasers,
Swell Maps,
Howard Jones,
Eve St. Jones,
Tommy Roe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Supertramp,
UT,
The Count Five,
Fat Boys,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gichy Dan,
Maurizio,
Newcleus,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Evens,
Agitation Free,
T.S.O.L.,
Bob Dylan,
Buzzcocks,
Swans,
The Dead C,
Cecil Taylor,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.