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 Bulgaria and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sonic Youth to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
ABC,
Rod Modell,
Qualms,
Faust,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Groovy Waters,
The Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
In Retrospect,
DJ Style,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Laurel Aitken,
Archie Shepp,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Offenders,
Ronan,
Angry Samoans,
Tomorrow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang On A Can,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
MDC,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Infiniti,
Joensuu 1685,
JFA,
Peter & Gordon,
Clear Light,
Radiohead,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Motions,
Bush Tetras,
The Fire Engines,
Graham Central Station,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Knickerbockers,
Reagan Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Durutti Column,
E-Dancer,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Sheep,
Todd Terry,
Barrington Levy,
Brick,
Tommy Roe,
Quando Quango,
David Axelrod,
Black Pus,
Tom Boy,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fuzztones,
Dead Boys,
Deepchord,
Crime,
The Mummies,
Brass Construction,
John Foxx,
Quadrant,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.