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 Kenya and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare 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 Robert Wyatt to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
The Vogues,
Pussy Galore,
Deadbeat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kenny Larkin,
Subhumans,
Nico,
Vladislav Delay,
Dead Boys,
Fluxion,
Wally Richardson,
Theoretical Girls,
The Remains,
Roger Hodgson,
T. Rex,
Mantronix,
Massinfluence,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nation of Ulysses,
Monks,
Minny Pops,
Eric Copeland,
Idris Muhammad,
Eli Mardock,
Hashim,
the Bar-Kays,
Thee Headcoats,
X-102,
the Human League,
Funky Four + One,
Boz Scaggs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Das Ding,
Hot Snakes,
Liliput,
U.S. Maple,
Joy Division,
The Zeros,
Aural Exciters,
Buzzcocks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Peter & Gordon,
Dave Gahan,
Masters at Work,
The Shadows of Knight,
Babytalk,
Erykah Badu,
The Smoke,
Man Parrish,
Scrapy,
Eddi Front,
Yusef Lateef,
8 Eyed Spy,
Monolake,
The Saints,
The Names,
The Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Public Enemy,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.