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 Latvia and from Manchester.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Holger Czukay 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 Bang On A Can to the techno 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The New Christs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DNA,
Fad Gadget,
Public Image Ltd.,
Amazonics,
Das Ding,
Ice-T,
Scrapy,
Mr. Review,
Ultravox,
Skriet,
Marc Almond,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wire,
Yusef Lateef,
The Pop Group,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Sherman,
Magazine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fat Boys,
DJ Style,
Piero Umiliani,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fear,
Niagra,
Icehouse,
Funky Four + One,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ludus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quando Quango,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harry Pussy,
In Retrospect,
Juan Atkins,
Matthew Bourne,
Alton Ellis,
Bang On A Can,
Surgeon,
Max Romeo,
Los Fastidios,
AZ,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Glenn Branca,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Monks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
KRS-One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ten City,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bronski Beat,
The Neon Judgement,
B.T. Express,
The Litter,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.