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 Rwanda and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 theremin 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 Scrapy to the techno 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Babytalk,
Urselle,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Görl,
The Blackbyrds,
Fad Gadget,
Janne Schatter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kaleidoscope,
John Cale,
The Zeros,
Neu!,
Chris & Cosey,
The Smoke,
Slick Rick,
Erasure,
Sparks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minor Threat,
Grauzone,
The Vogues,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Laurel Aitken,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Con Funk Shun,
Desert Stars,
Magma,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fat Boys,
New Order,
Sam Rivers,
L. Decosne,
Dawn Penn,
Wings,
Stetsasonic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Smog,
Supertramp,
Fela Kuti,
Sun City Girls,
Soft Machine,
Tomorrow,
Index,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scion,
Colin Newman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Alarm Clocks,
New York Dolls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Residents,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lucky Dragons,
June Days,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.