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 the UAE and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Althea and Donna 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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Tim Buckley,
Lungfish,
Dave Gahan,
Magazine,
Mars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Offenders,
Sugar Minott,
Pagans,
Lightning Bolt,
Scott Walker,
Japan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joey Negro,
Tom Boy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Pretty Things,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Letta Mbulu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Graham Central Station,
Tropical Tobacco,
F. McDonald,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ludus,
Steve Hackett,
Amazonics,
the Bar-Kays,
Moby Grape,
Moebius,
New Age Steppers,
X-102,
Eden Ahbez,
Sun Ra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Index,
Davy DMX,
Index,
Stiv Bators,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nils Olav,
In Retrospect,
Smog,
Archie Shepp,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultravox,
Los Fastidios,
Faust,
Sam Rivers,
The J.B.'s,
Reuben Wilson,
a-ha,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.