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 Bolivia and from Taipei.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar 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 Cluster to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Red Krayola,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
R.M.O.,
Anthony Braxton,
The Durutti Column,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Funkadelic,
T.S.O.L.,
Outsiders,
Boredoms,
The Human League,
Bobby Womack,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marcia Griffiths,
Josef K,
Barclay James Harvest,
Warsaw,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thompson Twins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crispy Ambulance,
Q and Not U,
Nas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
Schoolly D,
The Mummies,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
B.T. Express,
La Düsseldorf,
Idris Muhammad,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Can,
Hoover,
The Moody Blues,
The Wake,
The Saints,
Sandy B,
Minny Pops,
Spandau Ballet,
Janne Schatter,
Maurizio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cal Tjader,
The Litter,
FM Einheit,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minor Threat,
Nik Kershaw,
the Association,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ossler,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.