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 Somalia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet 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 Pere Ubu to the funk 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quadrant,
Joe Finger,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Busters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Audionom,
Tubeway Army,
Ponytail,
the Swans,
The Last Poets,
Warren Ellis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Wake,
The Remains,
Monks,
Interpol,
Pole,
Trumans Water,
Arab on Radar,
Dark Day,
Spandau Ballet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rotary Connection,
Gang Green,
Black Flag,
The Electric Prunes,
This Heat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Josef K,
The Raincoats,
Organ,
Cameo,
Mr. Review,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Magma,
Barbara Tucker,
Minor Threat,
B.T. Express,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Adolescents,
Mission of Burma,
The Black Dice,
Rod Modell,
Unwound,
Kool Moe Dee,
KRS-One,
Blake Baxter,
the Bar-Kays,
Slave,
Reagan Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash,
Delta 5,
MC5,
The United States of America,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sam Rivers,
Mark Hollis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.