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 Bangladesh and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the dance 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gregory Isaacs,
F. McDonald,
Skriet,
the Normal,
June Days,
The Move,
The Monochrome Set,
Technova,
Amazonics,
The Fall,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aswad,
Bauhaus,
Monks,
Tom Boy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Brick,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Charles Mingus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Little Man,
AZ,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Görl,
Peter and Kerry,
Glenn Branca,
Lower 48,
Rekid,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Don Cherry,
The Selecter,
The Dead C,
The Human League,
The Raincoats,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lightning Bolt,
E-Dancer,
Groovy Waters,
Juan Atkins,
kango's stein massive,
Howard Jones,
the Swans,
Marvin Gaye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Smog,
Fear,
Ultra Naté,
Barry Ungar,
Scratch Acid,
Zapp,
Kevin Saunderson,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fuzztones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Banda Bassotti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.