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 South Sudan and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Bar-Kays to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vladislav Delay,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris & Cosey,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Parry Music,
The Gap Band,
Black Sheep,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Associates,
The Gories,
the Sonics,
Magazine,
Livin' Joy,
Youth Brigade,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eric Copeland,
KRS-One,
Jacques Brel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Underground Resistance,
James White and The Blacks,
Cameo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Index,
Deakin,
The Durutti Column,
The Raincoats,
Derrick Morgan,
Pussy Galore,
Country Teasers,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Moleskins,
The Black Dice,
The Cowsills,
The Toasters,
Altered Images,
The Fall,
These Immortal Souls,
Joey Negro,
Fad Gadget,
DJ Sneak,
Scion,
June Days,
Scott Walker,
One Last Wish,
The Red Krayola,
The Doors,
Kenny Larkin,
The Offenders,
Average White Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ice-T,
Swell Maps,
New Age Steppers,
Lindisfarne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Arthur Verocai,
Los Fastidios,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.