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 Ivory Coast and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Model 500 to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Don Cherry,
The Litter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Judy Mowatt,
Roy Ayers,
Popol Vuh,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fugs,
Fatback Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Slits,
The Vogues,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Evens,
Jesper Dahlback,
Iggy Pop,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Newcleus,
Soul II Soul,
Amazonics,
Ludus,
Tears for Fears,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nas,
Mad Mike,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Index,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Junior Murvin,
Livin' Joy,
Juan Atkins,
Sam Rivers,
Alton Ellis,
Outsiders,
Eli Mardock,
Sixth Finger,
Drexciya,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Freddie Wadling,
the Germs,
Kerri Chandler,
The Sonics,
Scion,
Cal Tjader,
Moebius,
X-101,
Ice-T,
The Doors,
Skriet,
Ten City,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Wasted Youth,
New York Dolls,
Guru Guru,
The Detroit Cobras,
B.T. Express,
Stiv Bators,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Trojans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.