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 Netherlands and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kas Product 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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Modern Lovers,
Joyce Sims,
the Normal,
Laurel Aitken,
The Slackers,
The Victims,
The Tremeloes,
Electric Prunes,
Ponytail,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fluxion,
Man Parrish,
Stereo Dub,
Byron Stingily,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Blues Magoos,
8 Eyed Spy,
Derrick May,
Gang Starr,
Khruangbin,
Blake Baxter,
Mark Hollis,
Zapp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lungfish,
Anthony Braxton,
Amazonics,
David Axelrod,
Japan,
Josef K,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Iggy Pop,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Letta Mbulu,
Faraquet,
Arthur Verocai,
Kurtis Blow,
The Music Machine,
The Dead C,
Robert Hood,
E-Dancer,
Radiohead,
DJ Sneak,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Searchers,
Das Ding,
Camouflage,
Nils Olav,
The Slits,
Bobby Sherman,
Boz Scaggs,
Cheater Slicks,
The Kinks,
Camberwell Now,
Tim Buckley,
Ornette Coleman,
Qualms,
Kerrie Biddell,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.