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 Gabon and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Funky Four + One to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Drexciya,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Neon Judgement,
the Bar-Kays,
Throbbing Gristle,
Con Funk Shun,
June of 44,
Model 500,
Zapp,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Q65,
Rekid,
The Standells,
X-102,
Marmalade,
Byron Stingily,
Spoonie Gee,
Radiopuhelimet,
Judy Mowatt,
Arab on Radar,
Tears for Fears,
Scion,
This Heat,
The Fugs,
Gang of Four,
Nik Kershaw,
Loose Ends,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Subhumans,
Skriet,
The Moody Blues,
Radiohead,
Pierre Henry,
Joe Smooth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fluxion,
The Doobie Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Crime,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
David Axelrod,
The Buckinghams,
Ludus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Easy Going,
Sonic Youth,
Camberwell Now,
the Swans,
Reagan Youth,
Y Pants,
Roger Hodgson,
Pet Shop Boys,
H. Thieme,
LL Cool J,
The Busters,
Alton Ellis,
The Golliwogs,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.