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 Uganda and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 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 Soulsonic Force to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gong,
Scott Walker,
Gabor Szabo,
Aloha Tigers,
Accadde A,
Rapeman,
Mars,
Fela Kuti,
Pylon,
Sex Pistols,
Kenny Larkin,
Marine Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
Ken Boothe,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Letta Mbulu,
The Motions,
Pantaleimon,
Stereo Dub,
Lower 48,
Fad Gadget,
Bronski Beat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Pus,
Radio Birdman,
Flipper,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
EPMD,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Music Machine,
The Young Rascals,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sparks,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Victims,
The Wake,
Althea and Donna,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eric B and Rakim,
June of 44,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ludus,
L. Decosne,
H. Thieme,
Tres Demented,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terry Callier,
Soul II Soul,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Doors,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Parrish,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Main Source,
Slave,
Pierre Henry,
Sällskapet,
Drexciya,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.