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 Costa Rica and from New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Newcleus to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Moon,
The Monks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Blancmange,
Gang of Four,
The Invisible,
Pagans,
Man Parrish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Modern Lovers,
Radio Birdman,
Nick Fraelich,
T. Rex,
Agitation Free,
Swans,
the Slits,
The Sound,
Fluxion,
Dark Day,
Arthur Verocai,
Bauhaus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Supertramp,
the Swans,
Slave,
D'Angelo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scan 7,
New York Dolls,
the Normal,
The Black Dice,
Aswad,
Boz Scaggs,
Lalann,
Grey Daturas,
Mr. Review,
The Cowsills,
Cecil Taylor,
Josef K,
One Last Wish,
Ornette Coleman,
48th St. Collective,
Inner City,
Kerri Chandler,
June Days,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Intrusion,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Christie,
Joe Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Foxx,
B.T. Express,
Dawn Penn,
Peter & Gordon,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.