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 Liechtenstein and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Ultra Naté to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Eddi Front,
Das Ding,
Black Bananas,
The Five Americans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pylon,
Fear,
The Trojans,
The Fall,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Excepter,
Connie Case,
Warsaw,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Deepchord,
Fela Kuti,
Ohio Players,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Popol Vuh,
Smog,
Scientists,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fluxion,
Man Parrish,
Panda Bear,
Pharoah Sanders,
DJ Sneak,
Infiniti,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Brand Nubian,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kaleidoscope,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Japan,
OOIOO,
World's Most,
Accadde A,
Grey Daturas,
X-101,
Sixth Finger,
Donald Byrd,
Laurel Aitken,
Oneida,
Barclay James Harvest,
F. McDonald,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Names,
Joyce Sims,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Little Man,
Monks,
Dawn Penn,
Monolake,
Audionom,
Buzzcocks,
Joe Smooth,
Ornette Coleman,
Scrapy,
Marvin Gaye,
Albert Ayler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Judy Mowatt,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.