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 Tonga and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 The Blackbyrds to the funk 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Heaven 17,
Letta Mbulu,
Prince Buster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Happenings,
FM Einheit,
The Human League,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tommy Roe,
Crime,
Fad Gadget,
Echospace,
Gastr Del Sol,
Drexciya,
Slave,
Avey Tare,
Pantaleimon,
Dead Boys,
The Vogues,
Rod Modell,
The Remains,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
John Cale,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Piero Umiliani,
Rakim,
Radio Birdman,
Pere Ubu,
Warsaw,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alison Limerick,
the Sonics,
Talk Talk,
Chrome,
Bang On A Can,
Jandek,
Ossler,
Hashim,
Frankie Knuckles,
Moby Grape,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Howard Jones,
Bill Near,
Moebius,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Terry Callier,
Alton Ellis,
Donald Byrd,
Stetsasonic,
The Buckinghams,
Leonard Cohen,
Peter and Kerry,
New York Dolls,
Robert Görl,
Soul II Soul,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.