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 Austria and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 Godley & Creme to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Robert Hood,
Oneida,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Au Pairs,
Derrick May,
Swans,
Symarip,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra,
David Axelrod,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Almond,
Radiohead,
The Names,
Silicon Teens,
Josef K,
Nas,
The Flesh Eaters,
Freddie Wadling,
D'Angelo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rakim,
Colin Newman,
Unrelated Segments,
Curtis Mayfield,
K-Klass,
The Wake,
The Standells,
Connie Case,
Ohio Players,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Vogues,
The Index,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bang On A Can,
Wolf Eyes,
Goldenarms,
Eli Mardock,
Joyce Sims,
Joe Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mantronix,
The Busters,
Pole,
Cal Tjader,
Faraquet,
Henry Cow,
Agent Orange,
Yazoo,
Alice Coltrane,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Raincoats,
Newcleus,
Rod Modell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hashim,
Piero Umiliani,
B.T. Express,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.