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 Papua New Guinea 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
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 sitar 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 Bobby Byrd to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Mars,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jandek,
Blake Baxter,
Severed Heads,
The Vogues,
Dead Boys,
The Sonics,
Black Flag,
Hasil Adkins,
Silicon Teens,
The Neon Judgement,
Tom Boy,
Bill Wells,
Roger Hodgson,
Joyce Sims,
The Invisible,
Tears for Fears,
Funky Four + One,
Supertramp,
Flamin' Groovies,
Depeche Mode,
Moebius,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fela Kuti,
Tomorrow,
Black Moon,
Tres Demented,
Marmalade,
Michelle Simonal,
Electric Prunes,
June Days,
Roy Ayers,
DNA,
Josef K,
Bad Manners,
Public Enemy,
The Index,
Tubeway Army,
The Dave Clark Five,
Idris Muhammad,
F. McDonald,
The Music Machine,
Pussy Galore,
Cal Tjader,
The Slackers,
Youth Brigade,
World's Most,
Eric Copeland,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mark Hollis,
EPMD,
Anakelly,
Angry Samoans,
Iggy Pop,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ossler,
Reuben Wilson,
Fad Gadget,
Schoolly D,
The Mojo Men,
Mission of Burma,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.