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 Ecuador and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Fall to the grime 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Tom Boy,
Glenn Branca,
Suicide,
Whodini,
Flash Fearless,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Goldenarms,
Cybotron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Piero Umiliani,
Television Personalities,
Marc Almond,
This Heat,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nils Olav,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sällskapet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pierre Henry,
Sparks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boredoms,
The Doors,
China Crisis,
The Cure,
Bobby Sherman,
The Blackbyrds,
Hot Snakes,
Susan Cadogan,
Camberwell Now,
Public Image Ltd.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Das Ding,
DNA,
Mr. Review,
Second Layer,
The Names,
X-Ray Spex,
Dark Day,
CMW,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eurythmics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ituana,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cal Tjader,
The Techniques,
Chrome,
Traffic Nightmare,
Audionom,
Lower 48,
The Wake,
Fluxion,
Brass Construction,
The Neon Judgement,
Icehouse,
Angry Samoans,
Joe Smooth,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.