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 Estonia and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Don Cherry to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Vainqueur,
U.S. Maple,
Stetsasonic,
The Kinks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Das Ding,
Nils Olav,
Mr. Review,
Banda Bassotti,
David McCallum,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minny Pops,
Soul II Soul,
Alison Limerick,
Roy Ayers,
Fluxion,
Magma,
Silicon Teens,
Erykah Badu,
Warren Ellis,
Second Layer,
The American Breed,
The Skatalites,
Qualms,
Motorama,
Agent Orange,
The Seeds,
Tubeway Army,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Move,
Masters at Work,
Lalann,
Oblivians,
the Swans,
The Pretty Things,
The Dirtbombs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
A Certain Ratio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stockholm Monsters,
FM Einheit,
Hardrive,
One Last Wish,
Black Bananas,
The Mojo Men,
Tropical Tobacco,
Godley & Creme,
Ohio Players,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Sonics,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Womack,
Mandrill,
Johnny Clarke,
Swell Maps,
Tres Demented,
Rekid,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.