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 Germany and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Techniques to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Brick,
Newcleus,
The Searchers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Smiths,
Bang On A Can,
The Last Poets,
Roxy Music,
Hashim,
Bluetip,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiohead,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dawn Penn,
Amon Düül,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Yellowson,
Minny Pops,
Black Sheep,
Freddie Wadling,
Q65,
Visage,
Ronan,
Stereo Dub,
Donny Hathaway,
Ronnie Foster,
Roxette,
The Electric Prunes,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Golliwogs,
Grauzone,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kevin Saunderson,
L. Decosne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
Das Ding,
the Swans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wings,
Desert Stars,
Erasure,
Malaria!,
Accadde A,
Carl Craig,
Wire,
Los Fastidios,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joey Negro,
Lyres,
Matthew Halsall,
Zapp,
The Moleskins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lalann,
Avey Tare,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New York Dolls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.