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 Mauritania and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gong to the grime 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Schoolly D,
Kurtis Blow,
Bill Near,
Intrusion,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Grass Roots,
Ossler,
Godley & Creme,
Supertramp,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pantaleimon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Move,
Sällskapet,
The Moleskins,
the Soft Cell,
Deepchord,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultra Naté,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
June Days,
Q and Not U,
MDC,
Marvin Gaye,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pierre Henry,
Susan Cadogan,
The Tremeloes,
Khruangbin,
Spoonie Gee,
F. McDonald,
The Standells,
Eddi Front,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Severed Heads,
Slave,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
The Blackbyrds,
The Birthday Party,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Zapp,
Quadrant,
Eric Dolphy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alice Coltrane,
Radiohead,
Porter Ricks,
Quantec,
Altered Images,
Lyres,
T. Rex,
Todd Terry,
Joensuu 1685,
Tom Boy,
Basic Channel,
New Age Steppers,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.