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 Nicaragua and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Lee Hazlewood to the dance 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Panda Bear,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swans,
Cybotron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lalann,
Roxy Music,
The Evens,
The Associates,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Terry Callier,
Alton Ellis,
Todd Rundgren,
Ossler,
Buzzcocks,
Subhumans,
Soft Machine,
Cluster,
Susan Cadogan,
The J.B.'s,
the Soft Cell,
New Age Steppers,
The Barracudas,
Moebius,
Skarface,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare,
Public Enemy,
Donny Hathaway,
The Invisible,
Don Cherry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moody Blues,
Gregory Isaacs,
Donald Byrd,
Jawbox,
Lower 48,
Sällskapet,
Matthew Bourne,
The Remains,
Dark Day,
D'Angelo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rekid,
Pere Ubu,
The Young Rascals,
Boz Scaggs,
John Cale,
Sarah Menescal,
Rosa Yemen,
Reuben Wilson,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Sherman,
Masters at Work,
The Sonics,
Loose Ends,
The Slits,
Urselle,
Technova,
Circle Jerks,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.