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 Estonia and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Drexciya to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Easy Going,
Rufus Thomas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Simply Red,
Mr. Review,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun City Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
The Pretty Things,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tommy Roe,
The Walker Brothers,
K-Klass,
Bob Dylan,
Swans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pulsallama,
KRS-One,
Porter Ricks,
Motorama,
the Germs,
Joey Negro,
Pierre Henry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Little Man,
Darondo,
Jandek,
Joe Smooth,
Lindisfarne,
Donald Byrd,
Idris Muhammad,
Monks,
Sandy B,
Depeche Mode,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hasil Adkins,
Lalann,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lyres,
Nico,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Erasure,
Jacques Brel,
Tom Boy,
Spandau Ballet,
ABBA,
Audionom,
Infiniti,
The Dead C,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Arthur Verocai,
The Human League,
New Order,
Lower 48,
Inner City,
Young Marble Giants,
the Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Altered Images,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
OOIOO,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.