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 Turkmenistan and from London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Vainqueur to the jazz 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Altered Images,
Q and Not U,
Tomorrow,
Royal Trux,
DJ Style,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Womack,
Scrapy,
Supertramp,
Kas Product,
Average White Band,
Flipper,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Negative Approach,
Althea and Donna,
Black Moon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Prince Buster,
The Saints,
Toni Rubio,
The Beau Brummels,
the Swans,
Archie Shepp,
Tom Boy,
Sonny Sharrock,
June of 44,
Cybotron,
Terry Callier,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tropical Tobacco,
Intrusion,
Motorama,
Isaac Hayes,
Susan Cadogan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ultra Naté,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mojo Men,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eddi Front,
A Certain Ratio,
Darondo,
Arthur Verocai,
Kayak,
Barrington Levy,
Nik Kershaw,
Easy Going,
Fatback Band,
Oblivians,
Unrelated Segments,
In Retrospect,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Donald Byrd,
Grauzone,
Cymande,
Heaven 17,
Ken Boothe,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.