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 Bahamas and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Neon Judgement to the grunge 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Avey Tare,
The Durutti Column,
Whodini,
Model 500,
Albert Ayler,
The Detroit Cobras,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Black Dice,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terry Callier,
Bad Manners,
UT,
Derrick May,
Deakin,
Todd Terry,
Ponytail,
X-102,
The Angels of Light,
Nation of Ulysses,
Davy DMX,
Absolute Body Control,
Technova,
Fluxion,
B.T. Express,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ten City,
The United States of America,
Rotary Connection,
Johnny Clarke,
Heaven 17,
Blancmange,
Kayak,
KRS-One,
The Selecter,
Young Marble Giants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sparks,
Blake Baxter,
The Cowsills,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Babytalk,
The Pop Group,
Bang On A Can,
Second Layer,
Magma,
Robert Görl,
Saccharine Trust,
Oneida,
Gang Starr,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fad Gadget,
Cecil Taylor,
The Sound,
Flash Fearless,
Tim Buckley,
Connie Case,
Yusef Lateef,
Half Japanese,
David McCallum,
Underground Resistance,
Accadde A,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.