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 Italy and from Mumbai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Glambeats Corp. to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Minutemen,
Black Bananas,
Donald Byrd,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joey Negro,
Mars,
Youth Brigade,
Guru Guru,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Peter & Gordon,
Absolute Body Control,
Little Man,
H. Thieme,
Swell Maps,
Drive Like Jehu,
JFA,
cv313,
Swans,
Lakeside,
Franke,
Terry Callier,
The American Breed,
The Beau Brummels,
X-101,
Matthew Bourne,
Severed Heads,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Womack,
The Litter,
Janne Schatter,
Quadrant,
Robert Hood,
Erasure,
Arab on Radar,
Sonic Youth,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Foxx,
Crash Course in Science,
The New Christs,
The Leaves,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Victims,
Can,
Vladislav Delay,
Carl Craig,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Seeds,
Byron Stingily,
EPMD,
Reuben Wilson,
Lungfish,
Mission of Burma,
Monks,
Sandy B,
The Cowsills,
Black Pus,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.