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 Seychelles and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Alice Coltrane to the electroclash 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre 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?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Shoche,
Fluxion,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brothers Johnson,
Symarip,
Mary Jane Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Parry Music,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Wyatt,
Yellowson,
Gang of Four,
DNA,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Silicon Teens,
Pole,
Joyce Sims,
Gregory Isaacs,
Todd Terry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sonic Youth,
Grauzone,
Charles Mingus,
This Heat,
Visage,
Livin' Joy,
Patti Smith,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
David Axelrod,
10cc,
Isaac Hayes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Unrelated Segments,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Moebius,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bauhaus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skaos,
Eve St. Jones,
The Index,
Average White Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fortunes,
Pierre Henry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gun Club,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Amazonics,
Q and Not U,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.