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 Libya and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb 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 Sonics to the grime 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The Mummies,
Scrapy,
A Certain Ratio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sixth Finger,
Black Moon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bootsy Collins,
Mad Mike,
Sam Rivers,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Divine Comedy,
Bob Dylan,
Nils Olav,
Skaos,
the Human League,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Standells,
Bauhaus,
Lindisfarne,
Fluxion,
Fear,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Niagra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sex Pistols,
Soul Sonic Force,
Livin' Joy,
Sister Nancy,
Television Personalities,
Qualms,
Los Fastidios,
Rites of Spring,
T.S.O.L.,
Zapp,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nirvana,
Heaven 17,
Kaleidoscope,
Quadrant,
Piero Umiliani,
James White and The Blacks,
Glenn Branca,
8 Eyed Spy,
Technova,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joey Negro,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Moss Icon,
Maleditus Sound,
Patti Smith,
The Music Machine,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Clarke,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scratch Acid,
Lalann,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.