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 Guatemala and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Zero Boys to the crunk 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
This Heat,
Animal Collective,
cv313,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pagans,
Andrew Hill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barbara Tucker,
The Litter,
48th St. Collective,
John Holt,
The Angels of Light,
Laurel Aitken,
the Normal,
The Leaves,
Shoche,
Flash Fearless,
The Doors,
DJ Style,
Main Source,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rod Modell,
The Standells,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
U.S. Maple,
Unwound,
Hasil Adkins,
Au Pairs,
Archie Shepp,
Faust,
X-102,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kayak,
The Beau Brummels,
Susan Cadogan,
Joyce Sims,
Agitation Free,
Cluster,
The Invisible,
Crispy Ambulance,
Massinfluence,
the Soft Cell,
Warsaw,
Quando Quango,
Darondo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yazoo,
Letta Mbulu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
F. McDonald,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blues Magoos,
Quantec,
Fatback Band,
CMW,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.