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 Nicaragua and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Iggy Pop to the rap 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fluxion,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radio Birdman,
Nico,
Lebanon Hanover,
Silicon Teens,
New Order,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sällskapet,
Bob Dylan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cymande,
Gang of Four,
Sight & Sound,
Duran Duran,
MC5,
Absolute Body Control,
David McCallum,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Litter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Matthew Bourne,
Television,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Modern Lovers,
K-Klass,
The Smoke,
Trumans Water,
Neil Young,
The Vogues,
Ituana,
Gong,
Negative Approach,
Yaz,
MDC,
Funkadelic,
Johnny Clarke,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Young Marble Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Stiv Bators,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lower 48,
Marc Almond,
kango's stein massive,
The Sonics,
Roxy Music,
Eric Copeland,
Rekid,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Foxx,
The Invisible,
The Dead C,
Basic Channel,
Popol Vuh,
The Slits,
Yazoo,
Niagra,
Byron Stingily,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.