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 Senegal and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Ice-T to the crunk 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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rufus Thomas,
Brass Construction,
Connie Case,
Urselle,
The Vogues,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masters at Work,
John Coltrane,
The Residents,
Tubeway Army,
Pussy Galore,
Girls At Our Best!,
Zero Boys,
Von Mondo,
Albert Ayler,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
L. Decosne,
ABC,
Accadde A,
Bobby Womack,
Vladislav Delay,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Last Poets,
Los Fastidios,
U.S. Maple,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Leonard Cohen,
Scrapy,
The Cramps,
48th St. Collective,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sight & Sound,
The Associates,
Flash Fearless,
The New Christs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chrome,
Joensuu 1685,
June of 44,
R.M.O.,
Infiniti,
The Mojo Men,
Eden Ahbez,
The Moleskins,
Sun Ra,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Görl,
Youth Brigade,
Maurizio,
Oneida,
Yusef Lateef,
John Foxx,
The Kinks,
H. Thieme,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.