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 Malawi and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Stooges to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Ohio Players,
Alison Limerick,
Youth Brigade,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gories,
Black Moon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Cure,
Jandek,
Moss Icon,
Bang On A Can,
Groovy Waters,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Godley & Creme,
Amon Düül II,
China Crisis,
Jerry's Kids,
Porter Ricks,
Interpol,
The Mummies,
The Cramps,
The Leaves,
Faraquet,
Robert Wyatt,
The Litter,
Lakeside,
Tres Demented,
Maurizio,
Talk Talk,
Ken Boothe,
The Divine Comedy,
Wasted Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dark Day,
The Buckinghams,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Glenn Branca,
Kurtis Blow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun Ra,
F. McDonald,
E-Dancer,
Silicon Teens,
The Real Kids,
Arcadia,
The Young Rascals,
Pussy Galore,
Eli Mardock,
Electric Prunes,
Parry Music,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dirtbombs,
Idris Muhammad,
The Gladiators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pet Shop Boys,
Country Teasers,
Donny Hathaway,
Buzzcocks,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.