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 Cameroon and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1978 at the first Visage 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 Babytalk to the jazz 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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Outsiders,
Bush Tetras,
The Cramps,
L. Decosne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Franke,
Andrew Hill,
The Move,
Can,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Leaves,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Age Steppers,
Theoretical Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Johnny Clarke,
Oblivians,
Kayak,
The Sound,
Bluetip,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Carl Craig,
The Cure,
Joe Smooth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joyce Sims,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Avey Tare,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Agitation Free,
Young Marble Giants,
The Toasters,
The Techniques,
Trumans Water,
Simply Red,
The Red Krayola,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scientists,
DNA,
John Foxx,
Reuben Wilson,
Kool Moe Dee,
China Crisis,
The Durutti Column,
Lyres,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jandek,
Crispian St. Peters,
Whodini,
Bad Manners,
a-ha,
Lou Christie,
Scott Walker,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Enemy,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Soft Cell,
AZ,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.