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 Germany and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Houston and Johannesburg.
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 marimba 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 Junior Murvin to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Metal Thangz,
Reuben Wilson,
Swans,
Aaron Thompson,
Laurel Aitken,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pole,
Stetsasonic,
Tubeway Army,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rufus Thomas,
Wire,
The Fuzztones,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Al Stewart,
Mary Jane Girls,
Morten Harket,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Siglo XX,
Roy Ayers,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gong,
Ronan,
Black Flag,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Names,
Minny Pops,
Tom Boy,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Moleskins,
Arcadia,
Loose Ends,
Joensuu 1685,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fat Boys,
Funky Four + One,
Simply Red,
Franke,
Pylon,
Chris Corsano,
Glenn Branca,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Basic Channel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rod Modell,
the Soft Cell,
Black Bananas,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Adolescents,
Patti Smith,
Davy DMX,
The Residents,
Gang of Four,
Maleditus Sound,
Ohio Players,
Sixth Finger,
The Motions,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.