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 Niger and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 David Bowie 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 Ornette Coleman to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Womack,
DJ Sneak,
Black Sheep,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Andrew Hill,
One Last Wish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thee Headcoats,
The Barracudas,
The Gun Club,
Sex Pistols,
Talk Talk,
The Invisible,
The Index,
Niagra,
Lyres,
Brand Nubian,
These Immortal Souls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Guru Guru,
Glenn Branca,
The Detroit Cobras,
Reagan Youth,
Flash Fearless,
Janne Schatter,
Sister Nancy,
Black Flag,
CMW,
L. Decosne,
Sight & Sound,
R.M.O.,
Thompson Twins,
Judy Mowatt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ponytail,
Amon Düül II,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Das Ding,
the Association,
Television,
Bad Manners,
Robert Hood,
Public Enemy,
Television Personalities,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Silicon Teens,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Symarip,
Funky Four + One,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hot Snakes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kayak,
The Fall,
Peter & Gordon,
Lalann,
The Dirtbombs,
Tommy Roe,
MDC,
Mr. Review,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.