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 Belgium and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Altered Images to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Todd Rundgren,
Heaven 17,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alton Ellis,
Kayak,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Sonics,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Hasil Adkins,
Josef K,
Jawbox,
Severed Heads,
Barry Ungar,
Scion,
Ponytail,
The Tremeloes,
Byron Stingily,
Rufus Thomas,
Pole,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yellowson,
Inner City,
Jeff Mills,
The Barracudas,
World's Most,
Fatback Band,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers,
The Fugs,
Funky Four + One,
Darondo,
Eden Ahbez,
The Leaves,
Moby Grape,
Pagans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Anakelly,
Franke,
David Axelrod,
Shuggie Otis,
Dual Sessions,
June of 44,
Piero Umiliani,
the Normal,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Icehouse,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Christie,
Deadbeat,
Masters at Work,
The Gun Club,
The Names,
Q and Not U,
The Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.