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 Botswana and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manila.
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 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 The Zeros to the crunk 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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
The Music Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
Rites of Spring,
Patti Smith,
Goldenarms,
The Litter,
Audionom,
Darondo,
Davy DMX,
Television,
Pantytec,
Buzzcocks,
The Grass Roots,
Lalann,
Public Enemy,
Barbara Tucker,
Girls At Our Best!,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fuzztones,
Little Man,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Monks,
Moby Grape,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed,
Bronski Beat,
Jerry's Kids,
Cameo,
Rapeman,
In Retrospect,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Iggy Pop,
New Age Steppers,
Michelle Simonal,
Country Teasers,
June of 44,
Morten Harket,
Motorama,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sister Nancy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crime,
Yaz,
Judy Mowatt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Althea and Donna,
Amazonics,
Interpol,
Scott Walker,
Man Eating Sloth,
Talk Talk,
The J.B.'s,
Suicide,
Robert Görl,
Guru Guru,
T. Rex,
Faust,
Piero Umiliani,
Agent Orange,
Tim Buckley,
Danielle Patucci,
MDC,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.