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 Monaco and from Tehran.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron 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 Electric Prunes to the crunk 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Rosa Yemen,
the Slits,
Matthew Bourne,
The Five Americans,
Alton Ellis,
Black Bananas,
Moebius,
Bobby Sherman,
Cameo,
Joe Smooth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Subhumans,
The Last Poets,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cluster,
The Gories,
The Mojo Men,
Don Cherry,
The Fugs,
The New Christs,
Brass Construction,
Model 500,
Khruangbin,
Michelle Simonal,
Youth Brigade,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-102,
The Names,
Newcleus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nas,
Reuben Wilson,
Crooked Eye,
Essential Logic,
U.S. Maple,
Terry Callier,
Marine Girls,
Joyce Sims,
Soft Cell,
Symarip,
Pagans,
Jacques Brel,
Aaron Thompson,
Jeff Lynne,
Swans,
The Fortunes,
Zapp,
Albert Ayler,
Maleditus Sound,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Prunes,
The Slackers,
Drexciya,
Gang Starr,
Chrome,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tears for Fears,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.