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 Peru and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 The Fugs to the crunk 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Mission of Burma,
K-Klass,
Nik Kershaw,
Babytalk,
Buzzcocks,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Moleskins,
Letta Mbulu,
Das Ding,
Freddie Wadling,
Technova,
John Coltrane,
Maleditus Sound,
a-ha,
MC5,
X-101,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wings,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Girls At Our Best!,
Youth Brigade,
DNA,
Janne Schatter,
Lungfish,
Ludus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wasted Youth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funkadelic,
Basic Channel,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Banda Bassotti,
The Velvet Underground,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sixth Finger,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
F. McDonald,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pantytec,
The Black Dice,
Ice-T,
Quantec,
Sonic Youth,
Lindisfarne,
Black Sheep,
Moby Grape,
Rakim,
Cecil Taylor,
Tommy Roe,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mark Hollis,
Radio Birdman,
Don Cherry,
Deakin,
Lou Reed,
Liliput,
Carl Craig,
Blancmange,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.