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 Bulgaria and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the rap 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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Masters at Work,
Black Flag,
Qualms,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crime,
Boredoms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee,
Spoonie Gee,
Pharoah Sanders,
The New Christs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Alice Coltrane,
Jacob Miller,
Panda Bear,
The Trojans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Grey Daturas,
The Gun Club,
Jeff Mills,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
MC5,
Quadrant,
Donald Byrd,
Pagans,
Black Bananas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultra Naté,
Gichy Dan,
Gang of Four,
Lalann,
Nik Kershaw,
Supertramp,
Laurel Aitken,
Shuggie Otis,
Tim Buckley,
Eli Mardock,
Cameo,
Brothers Johnson,
The Black Dice,
Soul II Soul,
Camouflage,
Rotary Connection,
Liliput,
Sister Nancy,
Scientists,
Black Moon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Underground Resistance,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Christie,
The Mummies,
The Dave Clark Five,
Peter and Kerry,
Lindisfarne,
Sonic Youth,
Ten City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Slits,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.