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 Zambia and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blake Baxter to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Suicide,
Yusef Lateef,
MDC,
Piero Umiliani,
Pantaleimon,
Surgeon,
Eve St. Jones,
Radio Birdman,
Swans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Siglo XX,
Jacob Miller,
Aswad,
a-ha,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
MC5,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roy Ayers,
The Monks,
The Slits,
Dead Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camouflage,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
In Retrospect,
Japan,
The Gun Club,
Panda Bear,
Donny Hathaway,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Young Marble Giants,
Severed Heads,
The Index,
Bobby Womack,
Bill Wells,
Ten City,
The Move,
Depeche Mode,
La Düsseldorf,
F. McDonald,
The Buckinghams,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kerrie Biddell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Glenn Branca,
The Smiths,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brand Nubian,
Monks,
Zero Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Nils Olav,
Ronan,
Excepter,
8 Eyed Spy,
New Age Steppers,
Blancmange,
Subhumans,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.