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 Iran and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro 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 Brass Construction to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Technova,
Liliput,
Subhumans,
F. McDonald,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fall,
Siglo XX,
Todd Rundgren,
Wasted Youth,
OOIOO,
Anthony Braxton,
Brass Construction,
The Gun Club,
Bush Tetras,
Neu!,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fortunes,
Hashim,
Rapeman,
Ronnie Foster,
Interpol,
Fad Gadget,
Lakeside,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Radio Birdman,
Half Japanese,
Agent Orange,
Black Pus,
the Normal,
Tres Demented,
Drive Like Jehu,
Isaac Hayes,
The Searchers,
Gichy Dan,
Das Ding,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rotary Connection,
Nas,
The Durutti Column,
Deakin,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tom Boy,
Roxy Music,
Black Bananas,
Ice-T,
Fatback Band,
Pantaleimon,
Sonic Youth,
Slick Rick,
The Dirtbombs,
The Blackbyrds,
Scientists,
Popol Vuh,
Shoche,
Accadde A,
Bronski Beat,
The Index,
The Moody Blues,
Quando Quango,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.