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 Greece and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
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 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 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 Altered Images to the grunge 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
The Fall,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Stooges,
Funkadelic,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rosa Yemen,
Nirvana,
Soul II Soul,
The Dirtbombs,
Toni Rubio,
Ultravox,
The Divine Comedy,
Lightning Bolt,
The Last Poets,
Rapeman,
Hoover,
Royal Trux,
Al Stewart,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Johnny Clarke,
Siglo XX,
Duran Duran,
Mr. Review,
Nico,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wire,
Lyres,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Livin' Joy,
Anakelly,
Scientists,
Pierre Henry,
Harry Pussy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Maurizio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Laurel Aitken,
Jesper Dahlback,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arthur Verocai,
Fela Kuti,
Morten Harket,
Rod Modell,
Patti Smith,
Wally Richardson,
The Pretty Things,
Scan 7,
Mandrill,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Raincoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scrapy,
D'Angelo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Electric Prunes,
Essential Logic,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.