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 Monaco 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Pretty Things to the electroclash 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
ABBA,
Gregory Isaacs,
Goldenarms,
Talk Talk,
Ronnie Foster,
Man Parrish,
Fat Boys,
Neu!,
Dawn Penn,
Freddie Wadling,
The Music Machine,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Bananas,
Aaron Thompson,
Public Enemy,
Donald Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
Susan Cadogan,
Livin' Joy,
Sonic Youth,
Silicon Teens,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jeff Mills,
The Star Department,
Minutemen,
Icehouse,
K-Klass,
Arthur Verocai,
Qualms,
Pierre Henry,
Piero Umiliani,
Panda Bear,
The Sonics,
Tres Demented,
Lyres,
Gong,
Blancmange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Coltrane,
B.T. Express,
Anthony Braxton,
JFA,
Barry Ungar,
X-102,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gories,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
June of 44,
Kas Product,
Excepter,
Oblivians,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rosa Yemen,
Wally Richardson,
Q and Not U,
KRS-One,
Tom Boy,
Heaven 17,
Wolf Eyes,
Average White Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.