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 Tonga and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 snare 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 Eric Dolphy to the grunge 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Pulsallama,
Dark Day,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lee Hazlewood,
Angry Samoans,
La Düsseldorf,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
Toni Rubio,
Lungfish,
Crooked Eye,
Make Up,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Isaac Hayes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flipper,
The Monochrome Set,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
Bauhaus,
Joensuu 1685,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skriet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Banda Bassotti,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Toasters,
Darondo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rod Modell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Smoke,
Flash Fearless,
Sparks,
Freddie Wadling,
the Sonics,
Chrome,
Harry Pussy,
Gichy Dan,
Tubeway Army,
Gregory Isaacs,
Don Cherry,
Bill Near,
Bobby Womack,
Charles Mingus,
Vladislav Delay,
Mo-Dettes,
Maleditus Sound,
John Holt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Smooth,
Michelle Simonal,
Cluster,
Whodini,
Depeche Mode,
Mark Hollis,
The Smiths,
Jacob Miller,
The Neon Judgement,
Pussy Galore,
KRS-One,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.