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 Maldives and from Mumbai.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Soul Sonic Force to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eric Dolphy,
Eve St. Jones,
Index,
Funkadelic,
John Lydon,
Freddie Wadling,
48th St. Collective,
Sparks,
The Raincoats,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Letta Mbulu,
The Mummies,
The Fugs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ronan,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gap Band,
John Coltrane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
James White and The Blacks,
Kayak,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sixth Finger,
Hashim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radio Birdman,
The Dirtbombs,
The Red Krayola,
Archie Shepp,
Rosa Yemen,
Theoretical Girls,
Intrusion,
Severed Heads,
The Wake,
The Neon Judgement,
Wings,
The Count Five,
Skaos,
Gabor Szabo,
Suicide,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Offenders,
New Order,
Dark Day,
Thee Headcoats,
Deakin,
Duran Duran,
The Human League,
AZ,
Jeff Mills,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sandy B,
Black Flag,
Hot Snakes,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.