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 Malawi and from Woodstock.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin 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 Radio Birdman to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Cybotron,
Monolake,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crime,
Can,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lungfish,
H. Thieme,
Chris & Cosey,
The Mojo Men,
Sound Behaviour,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Idris Muhammad,
Duran Duran,
Ken Boothe,
The Buckinghams,
Agitation Free,
Malaria!,
Popol Vuh,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jeff Mills,
Ten City,
Excepter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
FM Einheit,
DNA,
Peter & Gordon,
The Skatalites,
The Doors,
Tubeway Army,
Black Pus,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Joey Negro,
Scientists,
The Five Americans,
X-102,
Wolf Eyes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Godley & Creme,
F. McDonald,
The Trojans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Toasters,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Count Five,
Funky Four + One,
Guru Guru,
Slave,
Brick,
Gang of Four,
Underground Resistance,
Yazoo,
Mad Mike,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Almond,
Dawn Penn,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.