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 Antigua and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb 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 Pulsallama to the grime 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Stiv Bators,
The New Christs,
Swans,
Barbara Tucker,
Archie Shepp,
The Evens,
Albert Ayler,
Fela Kuti,
Maurizio,
The Vogues,
B.T. Express,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Slits,
Skarface,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
Sun Ra,
Glenn Branca,
the Swans,
Supertramp,
China Crisis,
Blossom Toes,
Lalann,
Anakelly,
Cabaret Voltaire,
T. Rex,
Nico,
kango's stein massive,
The Martian,
Mantronix,
Jerry's Kids,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick May,
E-Dancer,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Procol Harum,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Doobie Brothers,
Panda Bear,
John Holt,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Görl,
Eric Dolphy,
FM Einheit,
The Count Five,
Soul Sonic Force,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Standells,
Technova,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Amazonics,
John Foxx,
Silicon Teens,
Alice Coltrane,
Absolute Body Control,
Cecil Taylor,
EPMD,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.