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 Oman and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 David Bowie 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 The Kinks to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Agitation Free,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Swans,
David Bowie,
10cc,
Marine Girls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eric Dolphy,
New York Dolls,
Grey Daturas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Popol Vuh,
The Mojo Men,
Nils Olav,
Robert Wyatt,
Swans,
Fear,
Animal Collective,
Faraquet,
Swell Maps,
The Residents,
the Bar-Kays,
Ludus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tim Buckley,
Letta Mbulu,
Q and Not U,
Piero Umiliani,
Underground Resistance,
The Star Department,
Royal Trux,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
T. Rex,
Kevin Saunderson,
Susan Cadogan,
Goldenarms,
Ken Boothe,
The Doors,
Second Layer,
Suburban Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
Derrick Morgan,
EPMD,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terry Callier,
Make Up,
B.T. Express,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-102,
The Kinks,
In Retrospect,
Hoover,
F. McDonald,
The Vogues,
The Gap Band,
The Count Five,
Skaos,
Radio Birdman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Echospace,
Amon Düül,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.