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 Jamaica and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum 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 Q and Not U to the dance 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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Connie Case,
Severed Heads,
Nation of Ulysses,
Guru Guru,
ABC,
Wolf Eyes,
Robert Wyatt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Malaria!,
Amon Düül,
Roxette,
The Buckinghams,
The Zeros,
Ituana,
Letta Mbulu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Au Pairs,
Radiohead,
Amazonics,
Sun Ra,
Los Fastidios,
The Gladiators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Patti Smith,
Deadbeat,
Bang On A Can,
Buzzcocks,
Ronan,
Section 25,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Urselle,
Aloha Tigers,
Isaac Hayes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bootsy Collins,
The Blackbyrds,
Laurel Aitken,
Y Pants,
The Gun Club,
Alice Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
Mars,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Pus,
Cal Tjader,
Jeff Mills,
The Barracudas,
Susan Cadogan,
The Happenings,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Sonics,
Bluetip,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blancmange,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric Dolphy,
Ice-T,
Minutemen,
The Cure,
China Crisis,
Heaven 17,
Excepter,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.