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 Morocco and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Jawbox to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Sällskapet,
June Days,
Nirvana,
Jandek,
Essential Logic,
AZ,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Searchers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Royal Trux,
Matthew Halsall,
Jerry's Kids,
Lucky Dragons,
Neil Young,
Urselle,
Quadrant,
Country Teasers,
David Bowie,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Blues Magoos,
Agent Orange,
Mr. Review,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Birthday Party,
Excepter,
The Leaves,
Ultravox,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Arab on Radar,
Lightning Bolt,
Judy Mowatt,
Electric Prunes,
The Golliwogs,
China Crisis,
Nico,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Todd Rundgren,
Suicide,
The Residents,
Slave,
The Fuzztones,
Mandrill,
Delta 5,
Camouflage,
Matthew Bourne,
Ponytail,
Hot Snakes,
The Raincoats,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brothers Johnson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Star Department,
Pole,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fortunes,
Lyres,
Fluxion,
Thompson Twins,
Bauhaus,
Gabor Szabo,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.