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 Georgia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 B.T. Express to the techno 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb 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 organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Cale,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David McCallum,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
Toni Rubio,
Guru Guru,
Alison Limerick,
The Young Rascals,
The Real Kids,
Marine Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gichy Dan,
Sarah Menescal,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aloha Tigers,
Joe Finger,
Byron Stingily,
Amazonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Symarip,
Drexciya,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Association,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Byrd,
Radiohead,
Cabaret Voltaire,
R.M.O.,
The Doors,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Chris Corsano,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Charles Mingus,
The Saints,
Hot Snakes,
The Red Krayola,
Erykah Badu,
Lindisfarne,
The Litter,
Television Personalities,
Fluxion,
Suicide,
Robert Hood,
Popol Vuh,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fela Kuti,
Roger Hodgson,
the Human League,
Visage,
Quadrant,
The Divine Comedy,
Bootsy Collins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.