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 Kyrgyzstan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe 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 Spandau Ballet 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Rhythm & Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
Inner City,
Gang of Four,
Moss Icon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Symarip,
Wolf Eyes,
Mantronix,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spandau Ballet,
Young Marble Giants,
Marshall Jefferson,
Faust,
Saccharine Trust,
Dark Day,
Mission of Burma,
The Slits,
Fad Gadget,
The Skatalites,
Porter Ricks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neil Young,
Main Source,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Pus,
The Monks,
Eve St. Jones,
Soul Sonic Force,
DJ Sneak,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mad Mike,
The Gories,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
Throbbing Gristle,
Los Fastidios,
H. Thieme,
Tim Buckley,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mo-Dettes,
The Motions,
Cybotron,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Detroit Cobras,
Guru Guru,
Albert Ayler,
Organ,
Magazine,
The Vogues,
Terry Callier,
The Black Dice,
Reagan Youth,
K-Klass,
The Electric Prunes,
Erykah Badu,
Angry Samoans,
The Durutti Column,
Crooked Eye,
Jacob Miller,
Drexciya,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.