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 Gabon and from Lagos.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kaleidoscope to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jandek,
Henry Cow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Second Layer,
Livin' Joy,
Ornette Coleman,
David Bowie,
Television,
Youth Brigade,
Mo-Dettes,
Sight & Sound,
Colin Newman,
Funky Four + One,
The Doobie Brothers,
MC5,
The Buckinghams,
Harry Pussy,
James White and The Blacks,
Anthony Braxton,
Inner City,
Bronski Beat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Essential Logic,
Bootsy Collins,
Public Image Ltd.,
DNA,
The Zeros,
The Names,
Aloha Tigers,
Fatback Band,
Zero Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric B and Rakim,
Funkadelic,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gladiators,
FM Einheit,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Warsaw,
Absolute Body Control,
the Sonics,
Model 500,
Joy Division,
Quadrant,
Albert Ayler,
Lalann,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rosa Yemen,
Cheater Slicks,
Alton Ellis,
Little Man,
Mars,
Bobby Sherman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radio Birdman,
Cal Tjader,
Lyres,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.