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 Hungary and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Siglo XX to the rap 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Sound Behaviour,
Das Ding,
Joensuu 1685,
Average White Band,
The Last Poets,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Spoonie Gee,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Invisible,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cure,
Oneida,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dark Day,
Ituana,
Frankie Knuckles,
Massinfluence,
The Trojans,
Joe Finger,
Ludus,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Arcadia,
Royal Trux,
Oblivians,
Wolf Eyes,
The Angels of Light,
Mad Mike,
Donald Byrd,
Mars,
DJ Style,
John Holt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Cale,
Sixth Finger,
Graham Central Station,
Television,
Joyce Sims,
Rotary Connection,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Flag,
Jimmy McGriff,
Carl Craig,
Mr. Review,
Eli Mardock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Young Marble Giants,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fuzztones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Saccharine Trust,
Joy Division,
Lalann,
Quando Quango,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lebanon Hanover,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.