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 St Lucia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar 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 Unrelated Segments to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
T.S.O.L.,
Mandrill,
Echospace,
Glenn Branca,
Rotary Connection,
David McCallum,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Foxx,
Wally Richardson,
Crash Course in Science,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rosa Yemen,
Livin' Joy,
Alphaville,
Radiohead,
Eric Dolphy,
Jawbox,
Rod Modell,
Intrusion,
David Axelrod,
These Immortal Souls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Young Rascals,
48th St. Collective,
Q and Not U,
Q65,
Underground Resistance,
Anakelly,
Silicon Teens,
The Dave Clark Five,
Brand Nubian,
Trumans Water,
Delta 5,
The Real Kids,
Loose Ends,
Alton Ellis,
Harry Pussy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Byrd,
Buzzcocks,
The Cramps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Urselle,
Zapp,
Roxy Music,
Ice-T,
Half Japanese,
The New Christs,
Schoolly D,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dark Day,
Can,
Radio Birdman,
The Gun Club,
Sound Behaviour,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
U.S. Maple,
Peter & Gordon,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.