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 Georgia and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 X-Ray Spex to the techno 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Gastr Del Sol,
Das Ding,
Lightning Bolt,
Shoche,
Eddi Front,
Sexual Harrassment,
Khruangbin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Blossom Toes,
Whodini,
The Misunderstood,
Lindisfarne,
The Remains,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cymande,
Tears for Fears,
Reagan Youth,
Neu!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young,
Faraquet,
Ken Boothe,
Wire,
The Fall,
Roy Ayers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jeff Lynne,
E-Dancer,
The Walker Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Godley & Creme,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sällskapet,
The Red Krayola,
Metal Thangz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marmalade,
Banda Bassotti,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Move,
In Retrospect,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agitation Free,
Gang Green,
the Association,
Urselle,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kas Product,
Electric Prunes,
Popol Vuh,
Erasure,
Desert Stars,
Alison Limerick,
Archie Shepp,
Nils Olav,
Porter Ricks,
Peter & Gordon,
Eli Mardock,
Barrington Levy,
Jandek,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.