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 Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet 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 Lee Hazlewood to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Popol Vuh,
Lou Christie,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Country Teasers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Funkadelic,
Second Layer,
Scion,
the Bar-Kays,
48th St. Collective,
Anakelly,
Drexciya,
The Count Five,
The United States of America,
Mantronix,
The Remains,
The Dirtbombs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dark Day,
Faraquet,
The Motions,
Blake Baxter,
Subhumans,
Tears for Fears,
Can,
Silicon Teens,
Ituana,
Jawbox,
Piero Umiliani,
Liliput,
Quadrant,
Pantaleimon,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
R.M.O.,
Max Romeo,
Groovy Waters,
Urselle,
The Techniques,
Rotary Connection,
Skaos,
Colin Newman,
John Holt,
Arcadia,
Section 25,
Agitation Free,
Fugazi,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kerrie Biddell,
Faust,
Bobby Sherman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Leaves,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Womack,
The Monks,
Icehouse,
Cameo,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.