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 United States and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 The Trojans to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
The Walker Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Wyatt,
Duran Duran,
The Index,
Saccharine Trust,
Little Man,
The Doors,
Lindisfarne,
Soft Machine,
Dark Day,
Barrington Levy,
The Smiths,
Sonic Youth,
Tim Buckley,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Monolake,
The Star Department,
MDC,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roxette,
Rufus Thomas,
The Trojans,
Mission of Burma,
Camouflage,
Agitation Free,
Scrapy,
Hot Snakes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
Jacques Brel,
Ituana,
Buzzcocks,
Country Teasers,
Outsiders,
Crime,
Sparks,
Avey Tare,
Joe Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
T.S.O.L.,
Ponytail,
Tommy Roe,
The Cramps,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kenny Larkin,
Wasted Youth,
Joey Negro,
Darondo,
Stetsasonic,
Qualms,
Ludus,
Organ,
Faust,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.