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 El Salvador and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rap 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Animal Collective,
Parry Music,
Crash Course in Science,
Barry Ungar,
Radio Birdman,
Vainqueur,
Essential Logic,
The Fire Engines,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yaz,
Tom Boy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Alton Ellis,
The Red Krayola,
a-ha,
John Holt,
Bang On A Can,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bootsy Collins,
Symarip,
Jawbox,
A Certain Ratio,
Bill Near,
Donny Hathaway,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cramps,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Germs,
Slave,
Pantytec,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yellowson,
Kayak,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arthur Verocai,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Peter & Gordon,
Magma,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jeff Lynne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David McCallum,
Guru Guru,
Qualms,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monolake,
Matthew Bourne,
Public Enemy,
Soul II Soul,
New York Dolls,
Minnie Riperton,
H. Thieme,
The Happenings,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terry Callier,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Move,
PIL,
K-Klass,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.