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 Azerbaijan and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Selecter to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Simply Red,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scan 7,
Jandek,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tears for Fears,
Brothers Johnson,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cramps,
Faust,
The Smoke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Idris Muhammad,
Amazonics,
Deepchord,
a-ha,
Wolf Eyes,
Khruangbin,
Soul Sonic Force,
Loose Ends,
The Human League,
Bluetip,
Byron Stingily,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Royal Trux,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Godley & Creme,
Siglo XX,
Moby Grape,
10cc,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sarah Menescal,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skaos,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rufus Thomas,
PIL,
The Doors,
Section 25,
The Monks,
T. Rex,
Trumans Water,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric Copeland,
Dave Gahan,
Marcia Griffiths,
ABC,
Mr. Review,
Adolescents,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Divine Comedy,
John Coltrane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Max Romeo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sound Behaviour,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.