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 Egypt and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crispy Ambulance 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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Quantec,
Television Personalities,
Gastr Del Sol,
Spandau Ballet,
Youth Brigade,
Matthew Halsall,
Sugar Minott,
Matthew Bourne,
Animal Collective,
Popol Vuh,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gap Band,
Symarip,
Khruangbin,
Sixth Finger,
Clear Light,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minnie Riperton,
Alphaville,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lower 48,
Barrington Levy,
Ronan,
Connie Case,
Mandrill,
Ken Boothe,
Pere Ubu,
Scion,
Eden Ahbez,
Visage,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lungfish,
Blake Baxter,
Grauzone,
Kool Moe Dee,
Delta 5,
Silicon Teens,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Absolute Body Control,
Thompson Twins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Shuggie Otis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kenny Larkin,
Scratch Acid,
Massinfluence,
Bauhaus,
ABC,
Gil Scott Heron,
Steve Hackett,
Smog,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crime,
Magma,
Ultravox,
Oblivians,
Shoche,
Tubeway Army,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.