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 Switzerland and from Hong Kong.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Barclay James Harvest to the dance 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sandy B,
Aloha Tigers,
Arab on Radar,
Leonard Cohen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Make Up,
LL Cool J,
Marvin Gaye,
Toni Rubio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Audionom,
Joe Smooth,
Buzzcocks,
X-101,
Suburban Knight,
PIL,
The Cowsills,
T.S.O.L.,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Coltrane,
The Human League,
Black Flag,
Easy Going,
Skarface,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Moleskins,
The Happenings,
Funky Four + One,
Reagan Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marmalade,
MC5,
The Buckinghams,
Godley & Creme,
The Skatalites,
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare,
Sun City Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Motions,
The Saints,
Supertramp,
Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Barry Ungar,
Hardrive,
Nirvana,
AZ,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.