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 Mongolia and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe 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 X-102 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Motorama,
Lou Christie,
The Cramps,
Groovy Waters,
The Offenders,
Sex Pistols,
La Düsseldorf,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Slick Rick,
Stiv Bators,
Glenn Branca,
Von Mondo,
R.M.O.,
Silicon Teens,
Hoover,
Flipper,
Johnny Clarke,
The Toasters,
Piero Umiliani,
Youth Brigade,
This Heat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Organ,
Nils Olav,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Prunes,
Arthur Verocai,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Newcleus,
Chris Corsano,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slave,
Charles Mingus,
Josef K,
Wire,
Kerrie Biddell,
Desert Stars,
The Monks,
The Leaves,
Yaz,
Dual Sessions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Interpol,
Fluxion,
Bush Tetras,
Glambeats Corp.,
Suicide,
Crooked Eye,
Letta Mbulu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Barbara Tucker,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobby Byrd,
Neil Young,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mantronix,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.