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 Colombia and from Spokane.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Colin Newman to the techno 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 Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Pulsallama,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Sherman,
The Misunderstood,
Cymande,
X-102,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kayak,
Sparks,
The Birthday Party,
Sugar Minott,
Youth Brigade,
Intrusion,
The Neon Judgement,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Real Kids,
EPMD,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minny Pops,
Television,
Television Personalities,
Sun Ra,
The Smoke,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Count Five,
Swell Maps,
The Slackers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skaos,
10cc,
Crispian St. Peters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Angry Samoans,
Can,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fall,
Big Daddy Kane,
Donny Hathaway,
Tom Boy,
The Mummies,
the Association,
Todd Terry,
Albert Ayler,
Wings,
Alison Limerick,
Bad Manners,
R.M.O.,
Letta Mbulu,
The Blackbyrds,
Don Cherry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Unrelated Segments,
Fad Gadget,
FM Einheit,
The New Christs,
Sixth Finger,
June of 44,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.