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 Lebanon and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bizarre Inc. to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Fear,
Marvin Gaye,
Barry Ungar,
The Gories,
Juan Atkins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Negative Approach,
La Düsseldorf,
Charles Mingus,
Tubeway Army,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Bananas,
Brothers Johnson,
The Golliwogs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Five Americans,
Parry Music,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Newcleus,
Essential Logic,
Fatback Band,
Wire,
Al Stewart,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Cowsills,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
cv313,
Jerry's Kids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pierre Henry,
Theoretical Girls,
Barrington Levy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Normal,
Vladislav Delay,
Tommy Roe,
Duran Duran,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thee Headcoats,
Stiv Bators,
The Buckinghams,
Robert Görl,
Anthony Braxton,
Guru Guru,
The Gap Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Prince Buster,
Interpol,
Max Romeo,
Gang Starr,
The Selecter,
The Names,
Yellowson,
the Germs,
The Offenders,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.