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 Czech Republic and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stereo Dub,
Robert Hood,
Dave Gahan,
Rufus Thomas,
Deepchord,
The Names,
The Birthday Party,
Subhumans,
Fluxion,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Techniques,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wally Richardson,
Sex Pistols,
Reagan Youth,
Nils Olav,
Jeff Mills,
the Normal,
Vladislav Delay,
The Tremeloes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nas,
Urselle,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mo-Dettes,
The Index,
Pussy Galore,
Soul Sonic Force,
Harmonia,
JFA,
Kurtis Blow,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Beau Brummels,
The Pretty Things,
Mission of Burma,
Newcleus,
June of 44,
Colin Newman,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Kinks,
Scientists,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pulsallama,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Darondo,
Davy DMX,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wolf Eyes,
One Last Wish,
Bush Tetras,
Glenn Branca,
Can,
The Monochrome Set,
Yazoo,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donald Byrd,
Parry Music,
Siglo XX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.