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 Papua New Guinea and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 David Bowie 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 Divine Comedy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Black Pus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cal Tjader,
Bizarre Inc.,
Archie Shepp,
Wire,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rufus Thomas,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kevin Saunderson,
David McCallum,
Freddie Wadling,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Swans,
Aswad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ludus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Das Ding,
Eve St. Jones,
The Buckinghams,
Funky Four + One,
The Doobie Brothers,
F. McDonald,
Mantronix,
The Raincoats,
Dark Day,
Organ,
Kurtis Blow,
Inner City,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fortunes,
Clear Light,
D'Angelo,
Grauzone,
Shoche,
The Cowsills,
MC5,
The Litter,
Wasted Youth,
Sun Ra,
Sixth Finger,
Vladislav Delay,
Loose Ends,
Byron Stingily,
Connie Case,
The Busters,
Tomorrow,
Kas Product,
Television Personalities,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Count Five,
Lou Christie,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.