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 Gambia and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Laurel Aitken to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
These Immortal Souls,
James White and The Blacks,
Grey Daturas,
Stetsasonic,
Peter & Gordon,
Crooked Eye,
Thompson Twins,
Anthony Braxton,
Flash Fearless,
Eden Ahbez,
Roger Hodgson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Kinks,
Audionom,
Eve St. Jones,
Bush Tetras,
Faust,
Funkadelic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Guru Guru,
Wally Richardson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deadbeat,
Supertramp,
Bobby Sherman,
Kas Product,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ultravox,
Jacques Brel,
Drexciya,
Rapeman,
Amon Düül,
The Fugs,
David Axelrod,
Warren Ellis,
The Doors,
Junior Murvin,
Yellowson,
Fad Gadget,
the Normal,
Susan Cadogan,
Royal Trux,
Brand Nubian,
Quando Quango,
The Monochrome Set,
Minny Pops,
Pantaleimon,
The Associates,
Masters at Work,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Byrd,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Seeds,
10cc,
Liliput,
Donald Byrd,
Roy Ayers,
Kenny Larkin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hasil Adkins,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.