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 Mexico and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe 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 A Certain Ratio to the grunge 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Porter Ricks,
Susan Cadogan,
Deadbeat,
Crash Course in Science,
The Detroit Cobras,
Warren Ellis,
Pagans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Black Dice,
The Alarm Clocks,
Steve Hackett,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric B and Rakim,
MC5,
Don Cherry,
The American Breed,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tres Demented,
Iggy Pop,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Qualms,
Underground Resistance,
The Walker Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
Suburban Knight,
The Music Machine,
Television Personalities,
the Soft Cell,
Sixth Finger,
The Five Americans,
Tim Buckley,
DJ Sneak,
the Normal,
Minnie Riperton,
Alphaville,
The Selecter,
John Foxx,
The Names,
Barrington Levy,
The Pop Group,
Roy Ayers,
Toni Rubio,
The Leaves,
Darondo,
Audionom,
Japan,
the Germs,
The Dead C,
Goldenarms,
Groovy Waters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Anakelly,
H. Thieme,
Nils Olav,
Colin Newman,
Y Pants,
Newcleus,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.