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 Mali and from London.
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 Madrid and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Pussy Galore to the jazz 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
The Mummies,
Wally Richardson,
Lucky Dragons,
The Real Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Erykah Badu,
Fela Kuti,
The Invisible,
The Fire Engines,
The Saints,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
a-ha,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fortunes,
Arab on Radar,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
kango's stein massive,
Bobby Byrd,
Swell Maps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ronan,
John Holt,
Kas Product,
Mark Hollis,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jacques Brel,
Suburban Knight,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Panda Bear,
The Fugs,
Country Teasers,
The Names,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crooked Eye,
the Germs,
Matthew Halsall,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Los Fastidios,
Marvin Gaye,
Terry Callier,
Eric B and Rakim,
R.M.O.,
Susan Cadogan,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare,
Boredoms,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Von Mondo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Tremeloes,
Bauhaus,
Yaz,
Moebius,
the Normal,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Absolute Body Control,
Johnny Clarke,
John Foxx,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.