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 Kosovo and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gichy Dan to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang of Four,
PIL,
Barry Ungar,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Funkadelic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Siglo XX,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Soft Cell,
Royal Trux,
Ronan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
X-102,
The Divine Comedy,
Idris Muhammad,
Young Marble Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cowsills,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Martian,
Sandy B,
The Pretty Things,
Grauzone,
Tim Buckley,
Nas,
Lindisfarne,
Procol Harum,
Magma,
KRS-One,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Al Stewart,
Cameo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharoah Sanders,
Symarip,
Chrome,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Red Krayola,
Nirvana,
Morten Harket,
Talk Talk,
Sexual Harrassment,
New Order,
Michelle Simonal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Monks,
Fear,
Niagra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Black Dice,
Loose Ends,
Prince Buster,
Erasure,
cv313,
Suicide,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Toasters,
Eric Copeland,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.