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 Turkey and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fatback Band to the grunge 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Oneida,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultravox,
Eve St. Jones,
Connie Case,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
kango's stein massive,
Simply Red,
Joe Finger,
Can,
Fat Boys,
Guru Guru,
Faust,
Desert Stars,
Main Source,
Funky Four + One,
Accadde A,
The Trojans,
Crash Course in Science,
Sex Pistols,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roger Hodgson,
the Sonics,
Prince Buster,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marc Almond,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
June Days,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Minny Pops,
Robert Wyatt,
Peter and Kerry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bush Tetras,
Gong,
Mantronix,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sight & Sound,
The Fugs,
Lungfish,
Susan Cadogan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Black Bananas,
R.M.O.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lee Hazlewood,
Harry Pussy,
Brand Nubian,
the Normal,
Agitation Free,
Blake Baxter,
Young Marble Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.