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 Mexico and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Aswad to the techno 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Saints,
Pylon,
June of 44,
Tropical Tobacco,
Adolescents,
The American Breed,
Eden Ahbez,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
B.T. Express,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Remains,
The Toasters,
Outsiders,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Monolake,
Schoolly D,
Skarface,
Dark Day,
Franke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lucky Dragons,
The Evens,
Graham Central Station,
Thompson Twins,
a-ha,
Nik Kershaw,
The Dead C,
Robert Wyatt,
Minutemen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boredoms,
Subhumans,
Arthur Verocai,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Zero Boys,
Black Moon,
Sam Rivers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Freddie Wadling,
Barbara Tucker,
Bluetip,
Unwound,
Television,
Sexual Harrassment,
Public Enemy,
Ronnie Foster,
PIL,
The Gladiators,
Eve St. Jones,
Fluxion,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Flag,
Main Source,
Quantec,
Underground Resistance,
Andrew Hill,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.