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 Mauritania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nik Kershaw to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Sound,
Funky Four + One,
Ponytail,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Starr,
David Axelrod,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aswad,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Zeros,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-Ray Spex,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Whodini,
Jacob Miller,
Soul Sonic Force,
Masters at Work,
Black Pus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Mojo Men,
The Gun Club,
Kevin Saunderson,
Urselle,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aloha Tigers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
David Bowie,
Todd Rundgren,
The Evens,
Groovy Waters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Modern Lovers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Sheep,
Main Source,
Todd Terry,
Amazonics,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Scott Walker,
Agent Orange,
Newcleus,
Lyres,
John Cale,
Rhythm & Sound,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Andrew Hill,
The Smiths,
The Cowsills,
Second Layer,
Soft Cell,
Magazine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Warren Ellis,
Kerri Chandler,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.