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 Ukraine and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pulsallama to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
The Music Machine,
Jandek,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Guru Guru,
Josef K,
The Associates,
The Knickerbockers,
Zapp,
Saccharine Trust,
These Immortal Souls,
the Fania All-Stars,
MDC,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
The Zeros,
The Neon Judgement,
Soul Sonic Force,
Byron Stingily,
The Count Five,
Blossom Toes,
Connie Case,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minnie Riperton,
Piero Umiliani,
Pulsallama,
DJ Style,
The United States of America,
Excepter,
Model 500,
Marshall Jefferson,
Animal Collective,
The Fortunes,
Porter Ricks,
Aswad,
Matthew Bourne,
Pere Ubu,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Ultra Naté,
Von Mondo,
Cymande,
Wally Richardson,
Thompson Twins,
Pole,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Blues Magoos,
Freddie Wadling,
Rapeman,
Sonic Youth,
The Slits,
Pagans,
Bill Near,
Amazonics,
The Wake,
Jawbox,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eli Mardock,
Slave,
Banda Bassotti,
Massinfluence,
Mark Hollis,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.