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 Mexico and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet 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 J.B.'s to the rock 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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Thompson Twins,
Boz Scaggs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Motions,
Eve St. Jones,
Fugazi,
Pussy Galore,
David Bowie,
Iggy Pop,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nik Kershaw,
Gabor Szabo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bronski Beat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Machine,
Gang Green,
Junior Murvin,
Model 500,
Absolute Body Control,
The Red Krayola,
The Searchers,
Accadde A,
Minutemen,
Grauzone,
Susan Cadogan,
Index,
Stereo Dub,
The New Christs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Groovy Waters,
Surgeon,
Arcadia,
Archie Shepp,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Depeche Mode,
Radiohead,
Easy Going,
The Smoke,
Man Parrish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Popol Vuh,
Whodini,
The Techniques,
Drive Like Jehu,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Unwound,
Slave,
X-Ray Spex,
Porter Ricks,
cv313,
Bob Dylan,
OOIOO,
Ornette Coleman,
Deadbeat,
Section 25,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter & Gordon,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.