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 Ukraine and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 CMW to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
The Fortunes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fela Kuti,
Fat Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Radiohead,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Model 500,
Babytalk,
U.S. Maple,
A Certain Ratio,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scan 7,
Eve St. Jones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Associates,
Aswad,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Man Parrish,
Heaven 17,
The Gladiators,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Judy Mowatt,
L. Decosne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Althea and Donna,
The Flesh Eaters,
EPMD,
Kaleidoscope,
Joe Smooth,
Johnny Clarke,
Marvin Gaye,
The Durutti Column,
Angry Samoans,
Roxette,
Dark Day,
The Divine Comedy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Graham Central Station,
Half Japanese,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Prince Buster,
Intrusion,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fuzztones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
LL Cool J,
Blake Baxter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
OOIOO,
Eli Mardock,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Teasers,
The Raincoats,
DJ Sneak,
Flamin' Groovies,
Thee Headcoats,
Chris & Cosey,
Altered Images,
Josef K,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.