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 Ukraine and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
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 Nile Rodgers 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 Hutcherson to the techno 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Public Image Ltd.,
A Certain Ratio,
Niagra,
The Pop Group,
Rod Modell,
Deadbeat,
Hasil Adkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Donald Byrd,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fire Engines,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tomorrow,
Thompson Twins,
Fat Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
Howard Jones,
Funky Four + One,
Carl Craig,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sun City Girls,
New Order,
Byron Stingily,
KRS-One,
Henry Cow,
Yellowson,
The Martian,
Faraquet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Buzzcocks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Avey Tare,
New Age Steppers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Q65,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
FM Einheit,
Hashim,
X-102,
DNA,
Tommy Roe,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chris & Cosey,
Soft Machine,
Echospace,
The Misunderstood,
Harry Pussy,
The Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moody Blues,
Electric Prunes,
Tres Demented,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Index,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Quantec,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.