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 Congo and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sun Ra to the grunge 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Babytalk,
Susan Cadogan,
The Saints,
The Detroit Cobras,
Peter & Gordon,
Smog,
Ronnie Foster,
Stereo Dub,
Kenny Larkin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Freddie Wadling,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang of Four,
The Dead C,
Malaria!,
Kool Moe Dee,
Surgeon,
Nirvana,
Don Cherry,
Grauzone,
Agent Orange,
Warren Ellis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Fall,
The Gories,
The Seeds,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Delta 5,
Kevin Saunderson,
Underground Resistance,
Boredoms,
Eddi Front,
The Fortunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Rites of Spring,
Sun City Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Country Teasers,
These Immortal Souls,
Yellowson,
Silicon Teens,
Gong,
Bobby Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
The Searchers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
X-102,
Tears for Fears,
Maleditus Sound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mantronix,
Mad Mike,
The Leaves,
The Slackers,
Flipper,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.