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 Guinea-Bissau and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the theremin 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 Unrelated Segments to the grime 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Khruangbin,
Gang Starr,
Tom Boy,
Donny Hathaway,
Scion,
the Normal,
Crispy Ambulance,
Boredoms,
The Monks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Essential Logic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Techniques,
Schoolly D,
Con Funk Shun,
Terry Callier,
Eric Copeland,
Kerrie Biddell,
Infiniti,
Motorama,
Whodini,
Ituana,
ABBA,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fall,
Albert Ayler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
X-101,
Wolf Eyes,
Arcadia,
The Skatalites,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Invisible,
The Cure,
U.S. Maple,
F. McDonald,
The Searchers,
Lyres,
Dark Day,
Gerry Rafferty,
James White and The Blacks,
Brass Construction,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Janne Schatter,
Sugar Minott,
Icehouse,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Absolute Body Control,
Camberwell Now,
Kaleidoscope,
Drexciya,
Ronnie Foster,
The Music Machine,
Urselle,
Eric Dolphy,
Cecil Taylor,
Buzzcocks,
Surgeon,
The Blackbyrds,
Bill Wells,
Young Marble Giants,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.