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 Luxembourg and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Harmonia to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Names,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Moon,
Black Sheep,
Lyres,
Yellowson,
Public Enemy,
Aural Exciters,
Ossler,
Oneida,
X-102,
The Cramps,
Main Source,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jacob Miller,
Brand Nubian,
The Mummies,
Gang of Four,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
DJ Sneak,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Yaz,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Bar-Kays,
The Modern Lovers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nick Fraelich,
A Certain Ratio,
Flash Fearless,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bill Near,
Suburban Knight,
Bad Manners,
The Fall,
Sällskapet,
Joyce Sims,
R.M.O.,
Bluetip,
The Red Krayola,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
La Düsseldorf,
Wings,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chris Corsano,
The Residents,
The Invisible,
The Fuzztones,
Rod Modell,
Rakim,
Carl Craig,
Ronan,
Lou Reed,
Duran Duran,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tres Demented,
Babytalk,
The Cowsills,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.