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 Afghanistan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin 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 Shuggie Otis to the grunge 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Golliwogs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Sherman,
The Sound,
Arcadia,
The Walker Brothers,
Monolake,
Faraquet,
The Evens,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tom Boy,
Little Man,
Marc Almond,
Moss Icon,
Prince Buster,
Blancmange,
Aural Exciters,
June Days,
Alphaville,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fugs,
Delta 5,
The Durutti Column,
Trumans Water,
the Association,
Chris Corsano,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brick,
Neil Young,
The Human League,
Marvin Gaye,
The Electric Prunes,
Bauhaus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Magma,
H. Thieme,
Gang of Four,
Average White Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Stereo Dub,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed,
Pylon,
Q65,
Basic Channel,
Gang Starr,
Wings,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick May,
Newcleus,
Q and Not U,
This Heat,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Al Stewart,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sparks,
FM Einheit,
Nik Kershaw,
X-102,
Ultimate Spinach,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.