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 Burkina and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sällskapet to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Five Americans,
Maurizio,
the Slits,
Mars,
The Tremeloes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Swans,
John Cale,
DJ Style,
The Fuzztones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Divine Comedy,
Tres Demented,
The Fortunes,
Brand Nubian,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mantronix,
Moby Grape,
Newcleus,
Chris & Cosey,
The Neon Judgement,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Busters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Erykah Badu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Althea and Donna,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dave Clark Five,
B.T. Express,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Dirtbombs,
Half Japanese,
Eric Dolphy,
Reagan Youth,
Wire,
Roxette,
Kenny Larkin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nation of Ulysses,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cybotron,
Eric Copeland,
Flamin' Groovies,
Juan Atkins,
Radiohead,
Darondo,
The Count Five,
Roxy Music,
Duran Duran,
Girls At Our Best!,
Monolake,
Joe Finger,
Bush Tetras,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cal Tjader,
Shoche,
Popol Vuh,
The Knickerbockers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.