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 Madagascar and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet 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 Gil Scott Heron to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Surgeon,
World's Most,
Dave Gahan,
Alphaville,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nik Kershaw,
Flash Fearless,
Dark Day,
Lakeside,
Public Enemy,
The Birthday Party,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gastr Del Sol,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Half Japanese,
the Fania All-Stars,
Darondo,
the Bar-Kays,
The Seeds,
Animal Collective,
The Motions,
Wasted Youth,
R.M.O.,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Slits,
Fatback Band,
The Divine Comedy,
The Zeros,
Ten City,
The Searchers,
DNA,
Kaleidoscope,
Eve St. Jones,
David Bowie,
Judy Mowatt,
The Trojans,
Vladislav Delay,
Trumans Water,
Hot Snakes,
Cheater Slicks,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gun Club,
Lalann,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gladiators,
Minnie Riperton,
One Last Wish,
Blancmange,
The Victims,
the Association,
Quantec,
Fear,
Robert Hood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nico,
The Mummies,
Lower 48,
Jacob Miller,
Icehouse,
Brass Construction,
T.S.O.L.,
EPMD,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.