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 Portugal and from New York.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Oblivians to the crunk 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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Basic Channel,
Matthew Bourne,
Aural Exciters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lungfish,
Country Teasers,
Josef K,
Sonny Sharrock,
T.S.O.L.,
Skriet,
Mark Hollis,
the Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Moleskins,
Intrusion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Christie,
Animal Collective,
The Neon Judgement,
Flipper,
Index,
Television Personalities,
Fluxion,
Massinfluence,
48th St. Collective,
Monks,
Little Man,
Grauzone,
Echospace,
Newcleus,
Fugazi,
Deadbeat,
Patti Smith,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Bananas,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Finger,
Juan Atkins,
Outsiders,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Howard Jones,
Popol Vuh,
Roxette,
E-Dancer,
The Gun Club,
The Cowsills,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gladiators,
Spandau Ballet,
Yaz,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Beau Brummels,
The Last Poets,
Cluster,
The Names,
Heaven 17,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sam Rivers,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.