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 Afghanistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 James White and The Blacks to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
K-Klass,
Eve St. Jones,
The Pretty Things,
Hot Snakes,
Eden Ahbez,
The J.B.'s,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sixth Finger,
Adolescents,
The Raincoats,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Standells,
The Cramps,
Sarah Menescal,
Subhumans,
Basic Channel,
Neu!,
OOIOO,
Terry Callier,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
PIL,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Masters at Work,
Eurythmics,
The Selecter,
Nik Kershaw,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Porter Ricks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Misunderstood,
Pere Ubu,
Skaos,
Y Pants,
Suburban Knight,
Trumans Water,
Camberwell Now,
Unwound,
The Divine Comedy,
The Grass Roots,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
The Fuzztones,
Kas Product,
Minutemen,
Warren Ellis,
Alison Limerick,
Section 25,
Jeff Mills,
F. McDonald,
Eric Dolphy,
Yaz,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soft Cell,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.