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 Malta and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 Rosa Yemen to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pole,
Albert Ayler,
Aural Exciters,
Das Ding,
Scrapy,
Kerri Chandler,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Germs,
Soft Machine,
Kayak,
Bobby Womack,
the Sonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Monks,
Mo-Dettes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fugazi,
Ludus,
The Dave Clark Five,
Althea and Donna,
The Neon Judgement,
Dennis Brown,
Girls At Our Best!,
Robert Görl,
Faraquet,
Rufus Thomas,
The Wake,
Slave,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Angry Samoans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Gang Starr,
Thee Headcoats,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Bar-Kays,
Radio Birdman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Neil Young,
Clear Light,
Bang On A Can,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker,
Y Pants,
Wings,
The Young Rascals,
One Last Wish,
Nils Olav,
Robert Hood,
Black Bananas,
The Offenders,
Fela Kuti,
ABC,
Kool Moe Dee,
Popol Vuh,
Bush Tetras,
K-Klass,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.