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 Brunei and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin 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 Andrew Hill to the techno 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rites of Spring,
Severed Heads,
Terry Callier,
Banda Bassotti,
Thee Headcoats,
Ossler,
Lucky Dragons,
The Smiths,
Maurizio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Selecter,
Althea and Donna,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Theoretical Girls,
Interpol,
Boz Scaggs,
Blancmange,
Terrestrial Tones,
Charles Mingus,
Pierre Henry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
EPMD,
The Beau Brummels,
Todd Terry,
Leonard Cohen,
Amazonics,
Idris Muhammad,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Model 500,
Marc Almond,
New Age Steppers,
Lindisfarne,
Tom Boy,
Glenn Branca,
Carl Craig,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Minny Pops,
David Bowie,
New York Dolls,
Loose Ends,
Joyce Sims,
Avey Tare,
Camberwell Now,
The Moleskins,
Yellowson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pylon,
The Techniques,
Neu!,
Connie Case,
Jerry's Kids,
Stetsasonic,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Sonics,
Magazine,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Motions,
Yazoo,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.