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 India and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Sällskapet to the rock 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Buzzcocks,
The Gladiators,
Rufus Thomas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Drexciya,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Byrd,
Masters at Work,
Prince Buster,
Angry Samoans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sam Rivers,
Judy Mowatt,
Faraquet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boredoms,
The Move,
Lower 48,
The Blues Magoos,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare,
R.M.O.,
Roger Hodgson,
The American Breed,
Sex Pistols,
Television,
Los Fastidios,
The Cramps,
Skriet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crime,
Aural Exciters,
Mark Hollis,
Flash Fearless,
The Fortunes,
The Velvet Underground,
Roxy Music,
The United States of America,
Unwound,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jeff Lynne,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Golliwogs,
Colin Newman,
Absolute Body Control,
Amon Düül II,
The Zeros,
The Blackbyrds,
Visage,
Yusef Lateef,
Deakin,
Monks,
Agitation Free,
The Saints,
Bluetip,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.