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 Chad and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro 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 Rosa Yemen to the jazz 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Rakim,
Thompson Twins,
The New Christs,
Jacob Miller,
Procol Harum,
Brothers Johnson,
Malaria!,
Joyce Sims,
Heaven 17,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Young Rascals,
Darondo,
Section 25,
Pantaleimon,
Pere Ubu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nico,
Basic Channel,
Tubeway Army,
Duran Duran,
CMW,
Motorama,
Dark Day,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Modern Lovers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Visage,
Tres Demented,
Ponytail,
Dead Boys,
Delta 5,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Slits,
Sister Nancy,
Ludus,
Gil Scott Heron,
EPMD,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Byrd,
These Immortal Souls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Pus,
Gong,
Jesper Dahlback,
B.T. Express,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rufus Thomas,
Dennis Brown,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cure,
The Tremeloes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Chris Corsano,
Simply Red,
Althea and Donna,
The Fugs,
The Gladiators,
Minnie Riperton,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Trumans Water,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.