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 Bangladesh and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron 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 Babytalk to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Buzzcocks,
Mr. Review,
The Slits,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Searchers,
Gang Starr,
Kerri Chandler,
Pantaleimon,
Carl Craig,
The Litter,
Erykah Badu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Skaos,
Boredoms,
The Red Krayola,
Steve Hackett,
Kas Product,
Boz Scaggs,
The Modern Lovers,
In Retrospect,
Icehouse,
Mad Mike,
Warren Ellis,
The Dirtbombs,
The Remains,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sound Behaviour,
Radiopuhelimet,
Matthew Halsall,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Television,
Tommy Roe,
The Busters,
Nas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The J.B.'s,
Crash Course in Science,
Heaven 17,
The Durutti Column,
Wally Richardson,
The Cure,
Marcia Griffiths,
MC5,
Ponytail,
Moebius,
Livin' Joy,
Marmalade,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scientists,
Public Enemy,
Man Parrish,
Gong,
X-Ray Spex,
Mars,
Panda Bear,
Magazine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fela Kuti,
The Walker Brothers,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.