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 Korea North and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare 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 Bang On A Can to the techno 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
E-Dancer,
Cecil Taylor,
The Seeds,
Terry Callier,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Yellowson,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Evens,
Stetsasonic,
Babytalk,
Lindisfarne,
Soul II Soul,
Saccharine Trust,
Quando Quango,
Flamin' Groovies,
Byron Stingily,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ludus,
Pantytec,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Association,
Derrick May,
Blancmange,
The Music Machine,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Basic Channel,
Man Eating Sloth,
Schoolly D,
Ituana,
The Cramps,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pussy Galore,
Grey Daturas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Amon Düül II,
a-ha,
Mark Hollis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Alarm Clocks,
JFA,
Gichy Dan,
Loose Ends,
Angry Samoans,
The Grass Roots,
Chris & Cosey,
Patti Smith,
Lightning Bolt,
Dennis Brown,
Absolute Body Control,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Glenn Branca,
Q and Not U,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Slits,
Ken Boothe,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
China Crisis,
Scan 7,
Delta 5,
Ash Ra Tempel,
F. McDonald,
Buzzcocks,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.