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 Libya and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Dead C to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Visage,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eurythmics,
The Last Poets,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The American Breed,
Youth Brigade,
ABC,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
kango's stein massive,
Motorama,
Archie Shepp,
Johnny Osbourne,
Slave,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Make Up,
Technova,
Funky Four + One,
Neu!,
Lyres,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Carl Craig,
Suburban Knight,
F. McDonald,
Desert Stars,
The Black Dice,
Tubeway Army,
Harry Pussy,
Gichy Dan,
Whodini,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
E-Dancer,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rakim,
Al Stewart,
Funkadelic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Agitation Free,
Mandrill,
Amon Düül,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Womack,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultravox,
Nas,
The Cramps,
Jawbox,
Robert Wyatt,
The Remains,
Sexual Harrassment,
Todd Rundgren,
cv313,
Excepter,
Ludus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.