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 Spain and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Lou Reed 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 DJ Sneak to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
The Black Dice,
Blossom Toes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
B.T. Express,
The Slackers,
Make Up,
Bill Wells,
Godley & Creme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Wake,
Angry Samoans,
Blake Baxter,
The Blues Magoos,
Soft Machine,
the Association,
Pet Shop Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barry Ungar,
Das Ding,
Alton Ellis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
FM Einheit,
Lyres,
Oneida,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Spoonie Gee,
Lalo Schifrin,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Josef K,
48th St. Collective,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Modern Lovers,
Heaven 17,
ABBA,
Essential Logic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Todd Terry,
Fatback Band,
Ultra Naté,
Warren Ellis,
Eddi Front,
DNA,
Tomorrow,
Intrusion,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ultravox,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Residents,
Drive Like Jehu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marmalade,
Radio Birdman,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.