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 Russia and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Victims to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Association,
Scan 7,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lower 48,
The Last Poets,
Das Ding,
The Saints,
Kayak,
L. Decosne,
Jerry's Kids,
The Searchers,
Todd Terry,
Barrington Levy,
Jawbox,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fela Kuti,
Colin Newman,
Skaos,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pussy Galore,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deepchord,
X-102,
Gang Gang Dance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cramps,
Goldenarms,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moebius,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
cv313,
Piero Umiliani,
Suburban Knight,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cameo,
Joe Finger,
Saccharine Trust,
The Durutti Column,
The Divine Comedy,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang of Four,
The Angels of Light,
Popol Vuh,
Severed Heads,
Blake Baxter,
Panda Bear,
The Shadows of Knight,
Byron Stingily,
Make Up,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Boz Scaggs,
The Skatalites,
Eli Mardock,
Sexual Harrassment,
New Age Steppers,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.