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 Nicaragua and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Black Flag to the electroclash 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Stockholm Monsters,
Q65,
Aswad,
The Toasters,
Loose Ends,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Flag,
Lightning Bolt,
Technova,
R.M.O.,
EPMD,
Ossler,
Minny Pops,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yazoo,
The Blackbyrds,
Byron Stingily,
the Germs,
Mad Mike,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ronnie Foster,
ABBA,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Byrd,
Yellowson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Toni Rubio,
Fear,
The Buckinghams,
Glenn Branca,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Japan,
Don Cherry,
Freddie Wadling,
Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Joe Finger,
FM Einheit,
the Swans,
The Skatalites,
Drexciya,
the Normal,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Babytalk,
Jandek,
Crooked Eye,
Sex Pistols,
Slick Rick,
DJ Sneak,
Bush Tetras,
The Birthday Party,
Mars,
Lou Christie,
Arcadia,
Moss Icon,
The Vogues,
The Fall,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.