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 Kuwait and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Selecter,
Rapeman,
Jimmy McGriff,
Connie Case,
Reuben Wilson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hasil Adkins,
Popol Vuh,
Swell Maps,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lyres,
Crispy Ambulance,
Freddie Wadling,
Ohio Players,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dead Boys,
Josef K,
John Coltrane,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bluetip,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Human League,
The Litter,
Charles Mingus,
Laurel Aitken,
Blancmange,
Faraquet,
Roger Hodgson,
Barrington Levy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marshall Jefferson,
Average White Band,
Goldenarms,
Black Sheep,
Donald Byrd,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nils Olav,
Beasts of Bourbon,
ABBA,
Sällskapet,
Soulsonic Force,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
UT,
Cluster,
The J.B.'s,
Marmalade,
The Pop Group,
Gregory Isaacs,
The United States of America,
Terry Callier,
MC5,
Marcia Griffiths,
Shoche,
Robert Hood,
Blake Baxter,
Cheater Slicks,
Subhumans,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.