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 Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar 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 Scratch Acid to the electroclash 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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Subhumans,
Al Stewart,
Deepchord,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Angry Samoans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Martian,
Rekid,
Harry Pussy,
The Wake,
Rufus Thomas,
cv313,
E-Dancer,
Parry Music,
Erykah Badu,
Hasil Adkins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Can,
The Blackbyrds,
A Certain Ratio,
Joy Division,
JFA,
Pharoah Sanders,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yellowson,
The Star Department,
Cheater Slicks,
World's Most,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Masters at Work,
Jandek,
Jeff Lynne,
L. Decosne,
The Blues Magoos,
Erasure,
Scan 7,
Bobby Sherman,
The Moleskins,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marcia Griffiths,
Iggy Pop,
Todd Terry,
Aswad,
The Remains,
Sun City Girls,
The Trojans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nick Fraelich,
Skaos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minutemen,
FM Einheit,
Ken Boothe,
Stetsasonic,
Smog,
The Red Krayola,
Joyce Sims,
The Durutti Column,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.