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 Belize and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Robert Hood to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Severed Heads,
the Slits,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Shoche,
Scrapy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Altered Images,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mark Hollis,
The Remains,
Radio Birdman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Offenders,
The Velvet Underground,
Scion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cowsills,
New Order,
Ohio Players,
The Names,
Echospace,
The Mojo Men,
John Lydon,
Pagans,
Barry Ungar,
the Association,
Slick Rick,
Mr. Review,
R.M.O.,
Eli Mardock,
kango's stein massive,
The Birthday Party,
Derrick Morgan,
Anthony Braxton,
Suburban Knight,
Sun City Girls,
Robert Hood,
Charles Mingus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Faraquet,
Adolescents,
The Searchers,
One Last Wish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Angels of Light,
Black Flag,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boredoms,
Niagra,
Gabor Szabo,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Pretty Things,
Wings,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.