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 Uruguay and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dead Boys to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Reagan Youth,
Moss Icon,
Heaven 17,
Mars,
Donny Hathaway,
Tres Demented,
The Sound,
The Music Machine,
Avey Tare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Blancmange,
KRS-One,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sixth Finger,
Sight & Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mark Hollis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Parry Music,
Mad Mike,
Siglo XX,
The United States of America,
Wings,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
June of 44,
the Slits,
The Names,
DJ Style,
Unwound,
The Smoke,
Byron Stingily,
The Walker Brothers,
Alison Limerick,
Wally Richardson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joensuu 1685,
Bush Tetras,
X-102,
Boredoms,
Arthur Verocai,
Crash Course in Science,
Newcleus,
Idris Muhammad,
Qualms,
Porter Ricks,
Von Mondo,
Swans,
B.T. Express,
The Cowsills,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Blossom Toes,
Adolescents,
Pantaleimon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.