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 Tajikistan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
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 rhodes 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 punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dave Gahan,
June Days,
Neu!,
The Wake,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Cure,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lalann,
The Cowsills,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jacques Brel,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anthony Braxton,
David Axelrod,
Mad Mike,
Amazonics,
The Techniques,
Newcleus,
Sun City Girls,
Scion,
Leonard Cohen,
Accadde A,
Cluster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Archie Shepp,
Brick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dark Day,
Eden Ahbez,
John Lydon,
Sun Ra,
Dead Boys,
New York Dolls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Aaron Thompson,
Kayak,
Fad Gadget,
Faraquet,
Yusef Lateef,
Agent Orange,
Banda Bassotti,
Outsiders,
Bobby Womack,
The American Breed,
Graham Central Station,
Brass Construction,
The Toasters,
David McCallum,
Josef K,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pussy Galore,
Desert Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
FM Einheit,
Kenny Larkin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.