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 Liberia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
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 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 Lou Reed 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Anakelly,
Max Romeo,
Buzzcocks,
Sex Pistols,
MDC,
Fatback Band,
Chrome,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Suburban Knight,
Byron Stingily,
UT,
The Index,
The Skatalites,
Harpers Bizarre,
LL Cool J,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Happenings,
Desert Stars,
The Gories,
Tom Boy,
The Moody Blues,
Scrapy,
Masters at Work,
Kas Product,
Reagan Youth,
Bizarre Inc.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Howard Jones,
Loose Ends,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sällskapet,
Davy DMX,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Q65,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tears for Fears,
Pantaleimon,
Delta 5,
Monks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eve St. Jones,
Donny Hathaway,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crooked Eye,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Byrd,
The Dave Clark Five,
Half Japanese,
Animal Collective,
The Saints,
Funkadelic,
Sun City Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Johnny Osbourne,
Adolescents,
Harry Pussy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.