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 Hungary and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The J.B.'s to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
June of 44,
Albert Ayler,
R.M.O.,
Faraquet,
The Five Americans,
The Selecter,
Robert Görl,
The Fall,
Deakin,
Quantec,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roxy Music,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mr. Review,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Porter Ricks,
The Skatalites,
Lower 48,
The Leaves,
John Cale,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Negative Approach,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mad Mike,
John Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
Marmalade,
DJ Style,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Grass Roots,
Crash Course in Science,
Thee Headcoats,
Sun City Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
D'Angelo,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Black Dice,
Desert Stars,
The Fugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sonic Youth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dawn Penn,
Dave Gahan,
The Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Cal Tjader,
the Swans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
FM Einheit,
Barbara Tucker,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.