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 Nauru and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Niagra to the crunk 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ronnie Foster,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Half Japanese,
Chrome,
Ice-T,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
X-102,
Idris Muhammad,
Crash Course in Science,
Saccharine Trust,
Mad Mike,
Easy Going,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Niagra,
Junior Murvin,
The Index,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grauzone,
David Axelrod,
Jacques Brel,
Wasted Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Negative Approach,
Gang of Four,
Harpers Bizarre,
Colin Newman,
The Vogues,
Roxette,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Zeros,
Organ,
Neil Young,
Depeche Mode,
Von Mondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Barracudas,
World's Most,
Ohio Players,
Carl Craig,
Camouflage,
Joyce Sims,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Divine Comedy,
David Bowie,
Slave,
Panda Bear,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Skriet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dorothy Ashby,
Radio Birdman,
Albert Ayler,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Average White Band,
Urselle,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Halsall,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.