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 Rwanda and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sparks to the rock 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Joe Smooth,
Public Enemy,
New Age Steppers,
Oneida,
the Germs,
The Vogues,
Grey Daturas,
Soft Cell,
Rapeman,
The Skatalites,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Juan Atkins,
Aloha Tigers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jeff Mills,
Sparks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Görl,
The Cramps,
the Sonics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Star Department,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Drexciya,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pierre Henry,
Kaleidoscope,
Barry Ungar,
Eli Mardock,
Wasted Youth,
Flipper,
Black Flag,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Zapp,
Little Man,
Scrapy,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Wyatt,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The United States of America,
Talk Talk,
Alison Limerick,
Niagra,
The Move,
The Zeros,
Clear Light,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.