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 Tuvalu and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord 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 Magazine to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
cv313,
The Velvet Underground,
Hoover,
Newcleus,
Make Up,
Bob Dylan,
Chris Corsano,
Tom Boy,
Panda Bear,
Marc Almond,
Judy Mowatt,
E-Dancer,
Godley & Creme,
Jacob Miller,
Chris & Cosey,
Camouflage,
Robert Görl,
The Doors,
Neu!,
Brass Construction,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Arcadia,
Black Moon,
Half Japanese,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Simply Red,
Inner City,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Stockholm Monsters,
David Bowie,
La Düsseldorf,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sound Behaviour,
Mo-Dettes,
Malaria!,
DNA,
Cecil Taylor,
Brothers Johnson,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Coltrane,
Popol Vuh,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sugar Minott,
Danielle Patucci,
Cymande,
Rekid,
Bill Near,
Harry Pussy,
the Sonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Los Fastidios,
The Misunderstood,
Soul II Soul,
Ken Boothe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fall,
The Star Department,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Heaven 17,
Marmalade,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.