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 Libya and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Henry Cow to the punk 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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
OOIOO,
Kenny Larkin,
Roxette,
Ice-T,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Halsall,
Drexciya,
The Move,
Anthony Braxton,
Urselle,
Trumans Water,
DJ Sneak,
The Gladiators,
Toni Rubio,
Massinfluence,
The American Breed,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roxy Music,
Gang of Four,
The Barracudas,
Interpol,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sugar Minott,
John Foxx,
Sam Rivers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scan 7,
The Remains,
Todd Terry,
Gang Green,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABC,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fear,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ponytail,
This Heat,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Moon,
Metal Thangz,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tom Boy,
Smog,
Rosa Yemen,
Grey Daturas,
Wolf Eyes,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Sherman,
Arab on Radar,
Inner City,
The Last Poets,
The Beau Brummels,
Kurtis Blow,
The Moleskins,
Swans,
Sandy B,
Flamin' Groovies,
Shoche,
Jeff Mills,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.