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 Iran and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 guitar 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 Ponytail to the dance 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Fela Kuti,
Radio Birdman,
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
Rites of Spring,
Carl Craig,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scientists,
Bobby Byrd,
Adolescents,
Rapeman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sex Pistols,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Spandau Ballet,
Shuggie Otis,
Babytalk,
The Techniques,
T. Rex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The American Breed,
Ponytail,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Michelle Simonal,
Tres Demented,
Moss Icon,
The Victims,
Scott Walker,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Darondo,
Juan Atkins,
Lucky Dragons,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Connie Case,
Todd Rundgren,
Matthew Bourne,
Magazine,
Jawbox,
Minor Threat,
The Trojans,
X-102,
Japan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dennis Brown,
Black Sheep,
Metal Thangz,
The Red Krayola,
The Grass Roots,
Soft Machine,
Sarah Menescal,
Deepchord,
Lungfish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anakelly,
Hot Snakes,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.