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 Vanuatu and from Spokane.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 ABBA to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Rufus Thomas,
Fat Boys,
Scrapy,
the Sonics,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Last Poets,
Jandek,
The Zeros,
Mission of Burma,
The Mummies,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Young Rascals,
Eurythmics,
The Happenings,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
One Last Wish,
Reuben Wilson,
The Golliwogs,
Roger Hodgson,
Bill Near,
Nirvana,
Fatback Band,
The Gladiators,
Junior Murvin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roxy Music,
Adolescents,
FM Einheit,
R.M.O.,
Fluxion,
Qualms,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arab on Radar,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Jawbox,
Rotary Connection,
Graham Central Station,
Altered Images,
John Coltrane,
Josef K,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pylon,
Warren Ellis,
Minor Threat,
cv313,
Sonic Youth,
Whodini,
The Moody Blues,
Young Marble Giants,
Quantec,
The Flesh Eaters,
Excepter,
The Birthday Party,
Schoolly D,
Crispy Ambulance,
Todd Rundgren,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Modern Lovers,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.