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 Australia and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Moby Grape to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
David Bowie,
Faust,
Niagra,
Lakeside,
Thompson Twins,
Bill Wells,
Eden Ahbez,
Skarface,
Black Flag,
Jandek,
Siglo XX,
Pere Ubu,
Khruangbin,
Subhumans,
Unrelated Segments,
Livin' Joy,
The Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Neil Young,
Bush Tetras,
Don Cherry,
Fad Gadget,
Swell Maps,
Mary Jane Girls,
June of 44,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Royal Trux,
JFA,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Funky Four + One,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pole,
Mo-Dettes,
L. Decosne,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Skriet,
John Foxx,
Ponytail,
Second Layer,
Al Stewart,
Japan,
Bob Dylan,
Neu!,
Susan Cadogan,
Joy Division,
Rapeman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang of Four,
The Motions,
Moebius,
Matthew Bourne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New York Dolls,
Oblivians,
The Slackers,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.