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 Papua New Guinea and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 AZ to the disco 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Ultravox,
Gang of Four,
The Buckinghams,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Toni Rubio,
Kayak,
Eurythmics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Surgeon,
the Human League,
Wire,
Television Personalities,
Soft Cell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Yazoo,
Adolescents,
Crispian St. Peters,
Byron Stingily,
Inner City,
Masters at Work,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Chris & Cosey,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Motorama,
Pussy Galore,
Donny Hathaway,
Smog,
Wings,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Detroit Cobras,
In Retrospect,
Bush Tetras,
The Gories,
The Fortunes,
The Associates,
Bill Wells,
Albert Ayler,
Vladislav Delay,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Morten Harket,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sonic Youth,
Fugazi,
Absolute Body Control,
The Velvet Underground,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
These Immortal Souls,
Parry Music,
Anakelly,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Pus,
The Grass Roots,
Bluetip,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rod Modell,
Saccharine Trust,
Dark Day,
Wolf Eyes,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.