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 Cuba and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Grauzone to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Letta Mbulu,
Robert Hood,
The Mojo Men,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bob Dylan,
Rakim,
The Happenings,
Das Ding,
Babytalk,
The Litter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pylon,
Max Romeo,
Zapp,
Yellowson,
Fad Gadget,
Hardrive,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Scan 7,
Kevin Saunderson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dead Boys,
The Walker Brothers,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Cale,
Ludus,
Sonic Youth,
June Days,
Thompson Twins,
Minnie Riperton,
Reagan Youth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Swans,
Deepchord,
The Raincoats,
Bootsy Collins,
Sugar Minott,
Derrick Morgan,
Symarip,
Andrew Hill,
Ornette Coleman,
Q65,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Chris & Cosey,
This Heat,
Ossler,
Eurythmics,
Scott Walker,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cluster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Colin Newman,
Carl Craig,
Rites of Spring,
Tim Buckley,
Faraquet,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.