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 Sudan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Absolute Body Control to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Fugazi,
Lou Reed,
Ossler,
Scratch Acid,
Dennis Brown,
Quando Quango,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Christie,
Davy DMX,
Joe Finger,
Barry Ungar,
Gang Gang Dance,
Chris & Cosey,
Juan Atkins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Al Stewart,
The Electric Prunes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Popol Vuh,
Crime,
Gregory Isaacs,
Faraquet,
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Matthew Bourne,
Funkadelic,
Monolake,
Bill Near,
The Cowsills,
Swell Maps,
Interpol,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Janne Schatter,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minor Threat,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Womack,
Inner City,
Youth Brigade,
Roy Ayers,
The Happenings,
David McCallum,
Kas Product,
UT,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalann,
Deadbeat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
Index,
Procol Harum,
Jeru the Damaja,
Half Japanese,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cramps,
The Dead C,
La Düsseldorf,
Prince Buster,
Black Bananas,
The Cure,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.