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 Tajikistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar 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 Last Poets to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
The Searchers,
DJ Sneak,
Supertramp,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
New Order,
Matthew Halsall,
Flash Fearless,
Gerry Rafferty,
Depeche Mode,
The Skatalites,
Black Sheep,
The Busters,
Pylon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Fania All-Stars,
Suburban Knight,
The United States of America,
Con Funk Shun,
Make Up,
Terry Callier,
Country Teasers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Erykah Badu,
Sonic Youth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Freddie Wadling,
Yusef Lateef,
Harpers Bizarre,
Reuben Wilson,
Ludus,
Kerri Chandler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skaos,
The Toasters,
Max Romeo,
Mission of Burma,
Adolescents,
Alphaville,
Ronnie Foster,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Byrd,
Vladislav Delay,
Fat Boys,
X-101,
Drive Like Jehu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gang Starr,
Bauhaus,
Deepchord,
Flipper,
The Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dawn Penn,
Gregory Isaacs,
Clear Light,
Procol Harum,
Radio Birdman,
Gang Green,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.