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 Kiribati and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 Skaos to the jazz 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Loose Ends,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood,
Au Pairs,
Los Fastidios,
La Düsseldorf,
The Blues Magoos,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fat Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Womack,
Sällskapet,
Aural Exciters,
Mars,
Whodini,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Don Cherry,
Half Japanese,
Prince Buster,
Procol Harum,
D'Angelo,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Sherman,
The Slackers,
The Fall,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
H. Thieme,
Lucky Dragons,
Donald Byrd,
Rotary Connection,
Infiniti,
The Dead C,
Rod Modell,
Yaz,
The American Breed,
Minor Threat,
Niagra,
The Red Krayola,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Interpol,
Big Daddy Kane,
Warsaw,
Fad Gadget,
The Associates,
Bronski Beat,
These Immortal Souls,
The Grass Roots,
The Zeros,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deepchord,
Lower 48,
Wasted Youth,
Con Funk Shun,
Michelle Simonal,
DJ Sneak,
Hoover,
Delta 5,
The Smiths,
Sun Ra,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.