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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the theremin 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 Qualms 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shoche,
Matthew Bourne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Freddie Wadling,
Subhumans,
Dennis Brown,
The Zeros,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Swans,
Young Marble Giants,
Outsiders,
Neil Young,
Los Fastidios,
Iggy Pop,
The Knickerbockers,
Scan 7,
Can,
Technova,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pussy Galore,
Nirvana,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Foxx,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dave Clark Five,
Q65,
The Gap Band,
Altered Images,
Darondo,
the Swans,
Camouflage,
The Motions,
X-Ray Spex,
D'Angelo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mad Mike,
Symarip,
The Fuzztones,
Josef K,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alice Coltrane,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeff Lynne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Byrd,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mark Hollis,
Sällskapet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nick Fraelich,
Clear Light,
Sun City Girls,
The Fugs,
Cluster,
Idris Muhammad,
Dorothy Ashby,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David McCallum,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.