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 Chad and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
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 arpeggiator 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 The Gories to the grunge 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Man Parrish,
The Doobie Brothers,
D'Angelo,
Gong,
The Invisible,
Newcleus,
Joy Division,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cal Tjader,
Todd Rundgren,
The Fugs,
Soulsonic Force,
Quantec,
The Vogues,
Cymande,
the Bar-Kays,
Ituana,
Zapp,
Altered Images,
Sixth Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Das Ding,
Alison Limerick,
Q and Not U,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Chrome,
Barbara Tucker,
Pantaleimon,
Goldenarms,
Kayak,
Jacques Brel,
Barry Ungar,
Graham Central Station,
Mo-Dettes,
David McCallum,
Whodini,
Ultravox,
Young Marble Giants,
Cheater Slicks,
The Litter,
Wolf Eyes,
John Holt,
AZ,
Aswad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Neil Young,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Essential Logic,
Duran Duran,
Fela Kuti,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Sheep,
Mars,
Cluster,
Leonard Cohen,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tropical Tobacco,
James White and The Blacks,
Bob Dylan,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.