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 Liberia and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Sam Rivers 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
The Raincoats,
Erykah Badu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Faust,
Charles Mingus,
Pussy Galore,
Ronan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Au Pairs,
The Black Dice,
Smog,
Wire,
Donny Hathaway,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quadrant,
The Doors,
Guru Guru,
Soft Cell,
The Golliwogs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pantytec,
Jandek,
Monolake,
Quantec,
Marine Girls,
Buzzcocks,
Fluxion,
Eve St. Jones,
Vladislav Delay,
Popol Vuh,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Public Enemy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scientists,
John Cale,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fall,
Saccharine Trust,
Tim Buckley,
Ultimate Spinach,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Blackbyrds,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Moody Blues,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Star Department,
Heaven 17,
Howard Jones,
Junior Murvin,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Human League,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.