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 Djibouti and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Interpol to the grunge 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Brothers Johnson,
The Grass Roots,
Susan Cadogan,
Clear Light,
Gabor Szabo,
kango's stein massive,
The Moody Blues,
Blake Baxter,
Brass Construction,
Easy Going,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Massinfluence,
Bang On A Can,
Fad Gadget,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mantronix,
Radiohead,
Nik Kershaw,
Chris Corsano,
Suicide,
Con Funk Shun,
The Raincoats,
Lyres,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Kinks,
Todd Rundgren,
Wasted Youth,
Bob Dylan,
Scan 7,
The Barracudas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rotary Connection,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Hashim,
Tubeway Army,
The Angels of Light,
The Dirtbombs,
Absolute Body Control,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sixth Finger,
Anakelly,
Circle Jerks,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pagans,
Ken Boothe,
Ronan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Soul II Soul,
Main Source,
Heaven 17,
a-ha,
Rhythm & Sound,
Model 500,
Royal Trux,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.