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 Mali and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Can to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
The Motions,
The Leaves,
Cheater Slicks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sex Pistols,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Youth Brigade,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grauzone,
The Star Department,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Subhumans,
The Five Americans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Royal Trux,
Blossom Toes,
Black Pus,
Slick Rick,
Hardrive,
Crime,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Amon Düül,
Pussy Galore,
JFA,
Eric Dolphy,
Iggy Pop,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Womack,
Harpers Bizarre,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joy Division,
Mad Mike,
The Wake,
Basic Channel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Offenders,
June Days,
Infiniti,
Camouflage,
The Black Dice,
Average White Band,
PIL,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Arcadia,
The Fall,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barrington Levy,
Parry Music,
Symarip,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dave Gahan,
Bronski Beat,
Reagan Youth,
Skriet,
June of 44,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ken Boothe,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.