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 Djibouti and from Edmonton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1984 at the first Arcadia 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 Oneida to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon 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?
Scion,
Hot Snakes,
Rod Modell,
Minny Pops,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
New Age Steppers,
The Stooges,
Letta Mbulu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Man Parrish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lalann,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Bowie,
the Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sällskapet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Green,
48th St. Collective,
Thompson Twins,
Joensuu 1685,
Intrusion,
Mad Mike,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wire,
Eli Mardock,
JFA,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Slits,
The Buckinghams,
The Star Department,
The Trojans,
The Standells,
Ludus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fad Gadget,
Joe Finger,
Gang of Four,
The Tremeloes,
Organ,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Reed,
Moby Grape,
Depeche Mode,
X-102,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Slave,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Q65,
Oblivians,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Misunderstood,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Con Funk Shun,
The Seeds,
The Invisible,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.