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 Cameroon and from Jakarta.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Smiths to the funk 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
The Five Americans,
Lucky Dragons,
Alphaville,
Matthew Bourne,
David Axelrod,
John Cale,
Jeff Lynne,
Ludus,
The Barracudas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gong,
Animal Collective,
CMW,
Moebius,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
kango's stein massive,
Funkadelic,
X-101,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Massinfluence,
The Mojo Men,
Mark Hollis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
a-ha,
B.T. Express,
Pantaleimon,
The Martian,
The Misunderstood,
The Victims,
Fad Gadget,
Soul Sonic Force,
Model 500,
June Days,
Talk Talk,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Pop Group,
Soft Machine,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soul II Soul,
Absolute Body Control,
The United States of America,
Ken Boothe,
Porter Ricks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Don Cherry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tears for Fears,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barrington Levy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Trumans Water,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Robert Wyatt,
U.S. Maple,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.