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 Mauritius 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Black Flag to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Minutemen,
10cc,
Altered Images,
Amazonics,
Brick,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Star Department,
Interpol,
Vladislav Delay,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alice Coltrane,
Organ,
Q and Not U,
Scan 7,
Rites of Spring,
La Düsseldorf,
The Slackers,
The Knickerbockers,
a-ha,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fugazi,
Juan Atkins,
Warren Ellis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kayak,
Colin Newman,
Cymande,
The Monks,
Whodini,
Piero Umiliani,
Boredoms,
Archie Shepp,
Nils Olav,
The Sound,
Blake Baxter,
Metal Thangz,
Nik Kershaw,
Faraquet,
Agitation Free,
Black Pus,
The Beau Brummels,
The Golliwogs,
Shoche,
Cluster,
Scott Walker,
Fela Kuti,
Simply Red,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quantec,
Motorama,
Aural Exciters,
Electric Prunes,
the Slits,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yusef Lateef,
Intrusion,
Alison Limerick,
Little Man,
The Angels of Light,
The Saints,
Radiohead,
Echospace,
Amon Düül,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.