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 Andorra and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bush Tetras to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Unwound,
Brass Construction,
The Cure,
Smog,
Animal Collective,
Barrington Levy,
Trumans Water,
John Lydon,
The Real Kids,
X-102,
Ponytail,
D'Angelo,
Accadde A,
Cluster,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Iggy Pop,
The Fortunes,
Blake Baxter,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Sherman,
Skaos,
Brick,
Johnny Clarke,
Mission of Burma,
Lungfish,
Symarip,
The Happenings,
Sam Rivers,
AZ,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
Pere Ubu,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mary Jane Girls,
Outsiders,
The Black Dice,
Con Funk Shun,
Terry Callier,
Davy DMX,
Clear Light,
Suicide,
Lakeside,
Fugazi,
The American Breed,
Eric Dolphy,
Sarah Menescal,
The Pretty Things,
La Düsseldorf,
Los Fastidios,
John Foxx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Busters,
Swans,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Masters at Work,
Arab on Radar,
Jacob Miller,
Cal Tjader,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.