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 Afghanistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sex Pistols to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Ken Boothe,
Slave,
JFA,
Sex Pistols,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Joyce Sims,
Charles Mingus,
The Angels of Light,
The Doors,
Clear Light,
La Düsseldorf,
Popol Vuh,
Talk Talk,
Kenny Larkin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Holt,
Parry Music,
Audionom,
Reagan Youth,
Derrick May,
Black Bananas,
The Red Krayola,
Ludus,
Dark Day,
Nils Olav,
Blancmange,
cv313,
Kayak,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dave Gahan,
Magma,
Crime,
The Walker Brothers,
Inner City,
The Residents,
Marshall Jefferson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moebius,
Yaz,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Moss Icon,
The Offenders,
Nirvana,
Bush Tetras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Letta Mbulu,
Leonard Cohen,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gun Club,
Bronski Beat,
Swans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Basic Channel,
Pantytec,
Cybotron,
Barrington Levy,
Rapeman,
Funkadelic,
The Selecter,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.