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 Chile and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Mission of Burma to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
David McCallum,
Bootsy Collins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Robert Hood,
Niagra,
Radio Birdman,
the Slits,
Bronski Beat,
Brick,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lungfish,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gories,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Urselle,
Rosa Yemen,
Bang On A Can,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Five Americans,
Tears for Fears,
Wolf Eyes,
Essential Logic,
Can,
Minor Threat,
Negative Approach,
David Bowie,
Amazonics,
Thee Headcoats,
Oneida,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Angry Samoans,
Pierre Henry,
Archie Shepp,
Al Stewart,
10cc,
Jacob Miller,
New Age Steppers,
Magma,
Swans,
Lou Christie,
Ultravox,
Animal Collective,
John Coltrane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jeff Lynne,
Quantec,
Unrelated Segments,
Pantaleimon,
The United States of America,
Wire,
Freddie Wadling,
Bob Dylan,
Mantronix,
The Invisible,
Stockholm Monsters,
Monolake,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.