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 Laos and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Shuggie Otis to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joensuu 1685,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scientists,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Monochrome Set,
Connie Case,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
X-Ray Spex,
Cameo,
Sixth Finger,
Procol Harum,
Ponytail,
Electric Prunes,
The Fugs,
Half Japanese,
Public Enemy,
The Zeros,
Boredoms,
Saccharine Trust,
Judy Mowatt,
Reuben Wilson,
Easy Going,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül II,
Susan Cadogan,
Blancmange,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
New York Dolls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lyres,
June Days,
The Real Kids,
Archie Shepp,
Sound Behaviour,
Depeche Mode,
Little Man,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ken Boothe,
Kevin Saunderson,
Swans,
Mandrill,
Henry Cow,
Gang of Four,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Neil Young,
Roxy Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric B and Rakim,
A Certain Ratio,
Colin Newman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bluetip,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed,
Unwound,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.