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 Brazil and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Suicide,
Anthony Braxton,
Rapeman,
Zero Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
The Happenings,
Mr. Review,
Eden Ahbez,
The Last Poets,
Altered Images,
The Birthday Party,
Byron Stingily,
Smog,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dirtbombs,
the Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gories,
The Fugs,
Cameo,
The Mojo Men,
Pussy Galore,
Con Funk Shun,
Public Image Ltd.,
Aural Exciters,
The Tremeloes,
Crash Course in Science,
Fad Gadget,
The Invisible,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Donald Byrd,
Pierre Henry,
Godley & Creme,
K-Klass,
Panda Bear,
The Vogues,
Eric Copeland,
Sun City Girls,
Sällskapet,
Charles Mingus,
Dual Sessions,
Gichy Dan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Minny Pops,
L. Decosne,
Fat Boys,
Grey Daturas,
Unwound,
Absolute Body Control,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Saints,
Avey Tare,
Qualms,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mad Mike,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.