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 Cameroon and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Fluxion,
The Stooges,
Fela Kuti,
Fugazi,
Soft Machine,
The Motions,
Second Layer,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Womack,
Whodini,
Barry Ungar,
The Dead C,
Colin Newman,
The Star Department,
Cameo,
Kas Product,
Isaac Hayes,
Aswad,
CMW,
Sandy B,
The J.B.'s,
Don Cherry,
H. Thieme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wings,
Stiv Bators,
Kerri Chandler,
Stetsasonic,
The Black Dice,
Youth Brigade,
Zapp,
Massinfluence,
Newcleus,
Skriet,
The Sound,
Oneida,
Black Flag,
Funky Four + One,
Delta 5,
Crispian St. Peters,
One Last Wish,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Human League,
PIL,
The Walker Brothers,
Loose Ends,
Basic Channel,
The Gun Club,
Anthony Braxton,
Pulsallama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Young Rascals,
Ohio Players,
The Dirtbombs,
Charles Mingus,
Neu!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sarah Menescal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ronnie Foster,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.