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 Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pylon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Duran Duran,
Lyres,
Maleditus Sound,
Can,
Oblivians,
The Offenders,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Warren Ellis,
June Days,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Enemy,
Archie Shepp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
David Axelrod,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Almond,
Shuggie Otis,
Alphaville,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mad Mike,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gories,
Todd Terry,
John Coltrane,
Warsaw,
The Happenings,
Gang Green,
Tubeway Army,
Minnie Riperton,
Ten City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joy Division,
the Soft Cell,
Schoolly D,
The American Breed,
Joe Finger,
Neil Young,
Minutemen,
Wings,
Barbara Tucker,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arcadia,
Hoover,
The Angels of Light,
Man Parrish,
Radiohead,
Harry Pussy,
Crime,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wolf Eyes,
Hot Snakes,
Talk Talk,
The Invisible,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Don Cherry,
Alison Limerick,
Gong,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Swans,
Metal Thangz,
The Fuzztones,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.