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 Italy and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Altered Images to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
Porter Ricks,
Glenn Branca,
Amazonics,
Subhumans,
Crime,
Japan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rufus Thomas,
Severed Heads,
The Busters,
Gichy Dan,
Archie Shepp,
New Order,
OOIOO,
Isaac Hayes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joe Finger,
Iggy Pop,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pet Shop Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yusef Lateef,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fad Gadget,
Kaleidoscope,
Fat Boys,
Magazine,
48th St. Collective,
Mad Mike,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
MDC,
the Human League,
Jandek,
The United States of America,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Byrd,
The Motions,
Erasure,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Idris Muhammad,
Barclay James Harvest,
Johnny Clarke,
K-Klass,
Leonard Cohen,
Grauzone,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brothers Johnson,
Terry Callier,
Essential Logic,
Infiniti,
The Kinks,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.