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 Tanzania and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 The Wake 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Little Man,
John Cale,
Make Up,
Sonic Youth,
Oneida,
The Human League,
Mad Mike,
Altered Images,
Judy Mowatt,
June of 44,
Susan Cadogan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Quando Quango,
John Coltrane,
Nils Olav,
Marmalade,
T. Rex,
H. Thieme,
Swans,
The Slits,
Albert Ayler,
Iggy Pop,
the Germs,
Sex Pistols,
Circle Jerks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
The Selecter,
Peter & Gordon,
The Barracudas,
The Fugs,
Absolute Body Control,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jimmy McGriff,
Intrusion,
Ronan,
R.M.O.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Derrick May,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Names,
Mark Hollis,
Pulsallama,
Soft Cell,
Dennis Brown,
Y Pants,
Henry Cow,
Moebius,
Maleditus Sound,
Donald Byrd,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
LL Cool J,
Lower 48,
The Moody Blues,
The Vogues,
Television Personalities,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fall,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dual Sessions,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.