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 Sudan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Electric Prunes,
Cameo,
Sugar Minott,
Ice-T,
Stereo Dub,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Peter and Kerry,
Fela Kuti,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Residents,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Sherman,
Camouflage,
Funky Four + One,
Hoover,
Dennis Brown,
Blancmange,
James White and The Blacks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Knickerbockers,
Kas Product,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quadrant,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tubeway Army,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rod Modell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Essential Logic,
The Stooges,
The New Christs,
LL Cool J,
the Swans,
Althea and Donna,
Radio Birdman,
Bang On A Can,
Bluetip,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ultravox,
Cal Tjader,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
OOIOO,
The Divine Comedy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tom Boy,
Arthur Verocai,
Pere Ubu,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smoke,
Delon & Dalcan,
Los Fastidios,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris & Cosey,
DNA,
Yellowson,
Icehouse,
Scott Walker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeru the Damaja,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.