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 Serbia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pierre Henry to the funk 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a harpsichord 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 chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Easy Going,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warsaw,
Ralphi Rosario,
Susan Cadogan,
Hasil Adkins,
Monks,
Fela Kuti,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Sheep,
Sun City Girls,
The Saints,
The Names,
Joyce Sims,
Roxette,
T. Rex,
The Barracudas,
Los Fastidios,
Jeru the Damaja,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Model 500,
Mission of Burma,
Sister Nancy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dave Gahan,
Bauhaus,
Carl Craig,
Pole,
Reuben Wilson,
Brand Nubian,
Ponytail,
Tubeway Army,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sam Rivers,
Brass Construction,
Ornette Coleman,
Visage,
Reagan Youth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Isaac Hayes,
John Cale,
Johnny Clarke,
Mad Mike,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
This Heat,
Scion,
Main Source,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cosmic Jokers,
U.S. Maple,
Brick,
Stockholm Monsters,
Josef K,
a-ha,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flipper,
Barry Ungar,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cameo,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.