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 Venezuela and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Jeru the Damaja to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Audionom,
The Victims,
Mantronix,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Flag,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Steve Hackett,
Wally Richardson,
Blossom Toes,
Darondo,
The Monks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Barracudas,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gap Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Electric Prunes,
The Electric Prunes,
The Trojans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Brothers Johnson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Five Americans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
MDC,
The United States of America,
Cluster,
Deakin,
Wasted Youth,
Faraquet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Suicide,
The Blues Magoos,
Dark Day,
Pantytec,
the Soft Cell,
The Cramps,
Shuggie Otis,
Royal Trux,
Con Funk Shun,
Spandau Ballet,
Iggy Pop,
Clear Light,
Minor Threat,
Michelle Simonal,
L. Decosne,
Rakim,
Sparks,
Patti Smith,
Aswad,
Gichy Dan,
Howard Jones,
Masters at Work,
Albert Ayler,
Fear,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.