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 Sierra Leone and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rapeman to the grunge 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Nils Olav,
The Gap Band,
World's Most,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Porter Ricks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jacques Brel,
K-Klass,
Crooked Eye,
Nirvana,
Harmonia,
Lindisfarne,
Mo-Dettes,
Josef K,
Joe Finger,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alice Coltrane,
Inner City,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marvin Gaye,
Faraquet,
These Immortal Souls,
Morten Harket,
E-Dancer,
The Angels of Light,
Average White Band,
The New Christs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang of Four,
Boredoms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Raincoats,
Desert Stars,
The Toasters,
Rosa Yemen,
Sister Nancy,
Ituana,
Rufus Thomas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Guru Guru,
Slick Rick,
Matthew Bourne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amon Düül,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Roger Hodgson,
Faust,
D'Angelo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pere Ubu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dark Day,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Q65,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.