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 Grenada and from Spokane.
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 Lille and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum 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 The Birthday Party to the crunk 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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Camouflage,
The Young Rascals,
Johnny Clarke,
Althea and Donna,
Sex Pistols,
the Germs,
Marc Almond,
John Lydon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Doors,
Joe Smooth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scratch Acid,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Graham Central Station,
Dawn Penn,
Von Mondo,
Lindisfarne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kerri Chandler,
Quadrant,
Isaac Hayes,
The Buckinghams,
Little Man,
Chris Corsano,
The Blues Magoos,
Pierre Henry,
Cymande,
Cal Tjader,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Suicide,
The Standells,
Sexual Harrassment,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alice Coltrane,
Nick Fraelich,
Toni Rubio,
Angry Samoans,
Mandrill,
Maurizio,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Wells,
Pantytec,
David McCallum,
Pagans,
Ronnie Foster,
Steve Hackett,
Glenn Branca,
Public Enemy,
Kurtis Blow,
Donny Hathaway,
Niagra,
In Retrospect,
Das Ding,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mad Mike,
The Raincoats,
The Count Five,
The Mighty Diamonds,
PIL,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.