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 Haiti and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Hoover to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sugar Minott,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Happenings,
Ultra Naté,
The Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Fatback Band,
The Buckinghams,
Quando Quango,
E-Dancer,
Parry Music,
Young Marble Giants,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Connie Case,
Kas Product,
Al Stewart,
Lungfish,
X-102,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ohio Players,
KRS-One,
The Selecter,
The Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dawn Penn,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oblivians,
Lou Christie,
The Busters,
Althea and Donna,
Sound Behaviour,
Eurythmics,
Blake Baxter,
Blancmange,
The Vogues,
Livin' Joy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moss Icon,
Donny Hathaway,
Cybotron,
Dead Boys,
Organ,
A Certain Ratio,
Boredoms,
LL Cool J,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DJ Sneak,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Saccharine Trust,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Joey Negro,
the Fania All-Stars,
Zero Boys,
Bizarre Inc.,
Delta 5,
Youth Brigade,
Tom Boy,
the Swans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.