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 Italy and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe 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 Wasted Youth 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Q65,
Essential Logic,
Swans,
Eden Ahbez,
World's Most,
The Dead C,
Cecil Taylor,
The Wake,
Erasure,
Rufus Thomas,
Warsaw,
Andrew Hill,
The Skatalites,
Barrington Levy,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cramps,
The Dirtbombs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Roy Ayers,
Glenn Branca,
Hot Snakes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
48th St. Collective,
The Searchers,
Buzzcocks,
Von Mondo,
Nas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harpers Bizarre,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Masters at Work,
John Foxx,
The Angels of Light,
Charles Mingus,
Bauhaus,
Black Flag,
Stereo Dub,
the Germs,
Con Funk Shun,
Agent Orange,
The Sonics,
Byron Stingily,
The J.B.'s,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sugar Minott,
The Gap Band,
the Normal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minor Threat,
Reuben Wilson,
Minnie Riperton,
Amon Düül II,
Hoover,
Negative Approach,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Holt,
Mission of Burma,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.