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 Bolivia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the jazz 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Toasters,
The Wake,
Nirvana,
Fugazi,
Urselle,
The Names,
kango's stein massive,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Offenders,
China Crisis,
the Human League,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fall,
Josef K,
Harry Pussy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ten City,
Marine Girls,
Faust,
Radiohead,
Dennis Brown,
Bauhaus,
Massinfluence,
Maurizio,
Supertramp,
the Bar-Kays,
The Stooges,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lightning Bolt,
Donny Hathaway,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric Copeland,
Fat Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
EPMD,
The Dirtbombs,
Banda Bassotti,
Al Stewart,
Arcadia,
Don Cherry,
The Misunderstood,
Mars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Pretty Things,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
FM Einheit,
Black Flag,
Joe Finger,
Michelle Simonal,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare,
Au Pairs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Althea and Donna,
Niagra,
The New Christs,
Kurtis Blow,
Infiniti,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.