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 Marshall Islands and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Real Kids to the jazz 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
The Real Kids,
Inner City,
The United States of America,
Television,
Mad Mike,
The Shadows of Knight,
Unwound,
MDC,
The Selecter,
The Names,
Sun Ra,
Leonard Cohen,
The Slackers,
The Birthday Party,
the Human League,
Popol Vuh,
Wire,
Gang of Four,
R.M.O.,
Radiohead,
Dave Gahan,
Dark Day,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Swans,
Faust,
Toni Rubio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Prince Buster,
Ludus,
Warren Ellis,
Circle Jerks,
Letta Mbulu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
UT,
Derrick Morgan,
Audionom,
Parry Music,
Stetsasonic,
Crash Course in Science,
T. Rex,
Hoover,
Saccharine Trust,
Moby Grape,
Camberwell Now,
The Sound,
Scan 7,
The Black Dice,
La Düsseldorf,
Second Layer,
Roger Hodgson,
the Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Young Rascals,
Roxy Music,
Organ,
Lebanon Hanover,
Y Pants,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cybotron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.