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 Niger and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Goldenarms to the rap 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crime,
Ken Boothe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Todd Terry,
Harry Pussy,
CMW,
Organ,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Names,
Banda Bassotti,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tubeway Army,
Minutemen,
Darondo,
Slick Rick,
Jandek,
Bronski Beat,
H. Thieme,
The Beau Brummels,
Angry Samoans,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Associates,
Soft Cell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DJ Sneak,
Royal Trux,
Yaz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nik Kershaw,
Chrome,
John Cale,
The Human League,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Don Cherry,
Ohio Players,
Erykah Badu,
Sound Behaviour,
The Real Kids,
Ice-T,
Prince Buster,
Ponytail,
Underground Resistance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Au Pairs,
Crooked Eye,
Silicon Teens,
Bush Tetras,
The Star Department,
Alphaville,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fluxion,
Inner City,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hoover,
X-Ray Spex,
Accadde A,
Cybotron,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.