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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 Cymande to the crunk 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jandek record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
K-Klass,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fela Kuti,
Drexciya,
Bill Near,
Pantaleimon,
Arcadia,
Fugazi,
Ornette Coleman,
Scion,
The Golliwogs,
Lightning Bolt,
Crime,
The Searchers,
Deakin,
Monolake,
Infiniti,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DNA,
Half Japanese,
Au Pairs,
The Gories,
The Grass Roots,
Hot Snakes,
China Crisis,
Skaos,
Andrew Hill,
Severed Heads,
Sixth Finger,
Minnie Riperton,
Traffic Nightmare,
Heaven 17,
The Index,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Flag,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dennis Brown,
Bang On A Can,
Blancmange,
Matthew Halsall,
Pierre Henry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roxy Music,
LL Cool J,
The Mojo Men,
Fatback Band,
The Five Americans,
The Black Dice,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Guru Guru,
The Happenings,
Scrapy,
Marine Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Schoolly D,
Lou Reed,
Ice-T,
Pharoah Sanders,
Derrick May,
Johnny Clarke,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.