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 Rwanda and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Thompson Twins to the rap 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Cybotron,
John Cale,
Todd Rundgren,
Can,
Joey Negro,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alphaville,
Black Pus,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dawn Penn,
June of 44,
Vainqueur,
Deadbeat,
Cymande,
James White and The Blacks,
Infiniti,
Pulsallama,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Remains,
The Residents,
The Angels of Light,
Tom Boy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Flash Fearless,
Second Layer,
Suicide,
Niagra,
U.S. Maple,
Yazoo,
The Toasters,
Agent Orange,
the Bar-Kays,
Toni Rubio,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxy Music,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Reuben Wilson,
Susan Cadogan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Buzzcocks,
Sonic Youth,
Bronski Beat,
X-102,
Metal Thangz,
The Martian,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camouflage,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gun Club,
Harry Pussy,
Banda Bassotti,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pylon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Saccharine Trust,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Delta 5,
Parry Music,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.