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 Serbia and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in 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 Gong to the disco 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Fela Kuti,
Suicide,
The Zeros,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lower 48,
The Vogues,
The Gories,
R.M.O.,
Wolf Eyes,
DJ Sneak,
Sound Behaviour,
the Association,
Brass Construction,
The Trojans,
Babytalk,
The Slackers,
Little Man,
Lou Reed,
The Fortunes,
Darondo,
Jacob Miller,
Crispy Ambulance,
Icehouse,
Shoche,
Harry Pussy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Holt,
Swans,
Eurythmics,
Archie Shepp,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bootsy Collins,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mojo Men,
Brothers Johnson,
the Swans,
Rapeman,
Zero Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Slits,
Don Cherry,
F. McDonald,
Basic Channel,
The Cramps,
Rekid,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lucky Dragons,
The American Breed,
Deadbeat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Kinks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ronan,
Cluster,
Stockholm Monsters,
Los Fastidios,
Desert Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Make Up,
Quadrant,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.