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 Bangladesh and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 Lindisfarne to the crunk 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Cluster,
Sam Rivers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angry Samoans,
The Count Five,
The Durutti Column,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scott Walker,
Country Teasers,
Minor Threat,
Panda Bear,
Mark Hollis,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Beau Brummels,
Simply Red,
Ponytail,
Faraquet,
Skriet,
June Days,
The Electric Prunes,
Sugar Minott,
Outsiders,
Stetsasonic,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Litter,
a-ha,
Shoche,
Davy DMX,
Brand Nubian,
Saccharine Trust,
The J.B.'s,
Intrusion,
Max Romeo,
Minny Pops,
Sight & Sound,
Ten City,
Camberwell Now,
Japan,
48th St. Collective,
Nick Fraelich,
Khruangbin,
Sonic Youth,
the Swans,
The Seeds,
Wolf Eyes,
The Misunderstood,
Mission of Burma,
The Angels of Light,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joyce Sims,
Whodini,
Scientists,
Archie Shepp,
Fatback Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Qualms,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.