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 Slovenia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scientists to the rock 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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Scrapy,
Kaleidoscope,
Severed Heads,
Pulsallama,
The Index,
Robert Wyatt,
Joey Negro,
Swans,
Fad Gadget,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Sherman,
Ice-T,
The Barracudas,
Wire,
The Blackbyrds,
R.M.O.,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fugazi,
Iggy Pop,
Jawbox,
Babytalk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bang On A Can,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roxy Music,
Pierre Henry,
Roxette,
Harmonia,
Harry Pussy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Procol Harum,
Yaz,
Joyce Sims,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fear,
Eli Mardock,
Bluetip,
FM Einheit,
Nation of Ulysses,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Flipper,
Spoonie Gee,
Throbbing Gristle,
LL Cool J,
Traffic Nightmare,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Music Machine,
Sonic Youth,
Livin' Joy,
New York Dolls,
Nico,
The Black Dice,
Ornette Coleman,
Lungfish,
Terry Callier,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Al Stewart,
Black Flag,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.