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 Peru and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Circle Jerks 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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Pole,
The Moleskins,
Groovy Waters,
The Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Suicide,
Tommy Roe,
cv313,
Pagans,
Saccharine Trust,
The Remains,
David Axelrod,
The Dead C,
Porter Ricks,
Hot Snakes,
Fat Boys,
John Foxx,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Vogues,
Dual Sessions,
Scott Walker,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Buzzcocks,
World's Most,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brand Nubian,
The Moody Blues,
The Martian,
Country Teasers,
Excepter,
Althea and Donna,
Fela Kuti,
R.M.O.,
FM Einheit,
Ohio Players,
Yazoo,
Chris & Cosey,
Monks,
Niagra,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joey Negro,
Peter and Kerry,
Con Funk Shun,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Bananas,
Lou Reed,
Au Pairs,
Robert Hood,
Charles Mingus,
Q65,
Sandy B,
Quando Quango,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Sherman,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Move,
Royal Trux,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.