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 Cape Verde and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Maurizio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-Ray Spex,
Josef K,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Chrome,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
Lindisfarne,
Eve St. Jones,
Janne Schatter,
Roy Ayers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Massinfluence,
The Divine Comedy,
The Young Rascals,
Suburban Knight,
Alice Coltrane,
Smog,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Knickerbockers,
Desert Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Mandrill,
Lalo Schifrin,
Organ,
Spandau Ballet,
Wolf Eyes,
Sandy B,
Ossler,
Gong,
B.T. Express,
Tommy Roe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rod Modell,
Siglo XX,
Brothers Johnson,
Niagra,
The Blues Magoos,
Hashim,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cramps,
Dave Gahan,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Christie,
Eli Mardock,
Circle Jerks,
Lalann,
Archie Shepp,
The Black Dice,
Scott Walker,
Black Bananas,
The Gun Club,
These Immortal Souls,
Sugar Minott,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.