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 Tuvalu and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes 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 Altered Images to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Alton Ellis,
Banda Bassotti,
Harmonia,
The Dirtbombs,
Maleditus Sound,
E-Dancer,
Maurizio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Swans,
Jandek,
Bluetip,
Wasted Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Juan Atkins,
Minutemen,
The Barracudas,
Sun Ra,
Robert Görl,
The Blues Magoos,
Little Man,
Ten City,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
Royal Trux,
Laurel Aitken,
The Beau Brummels,
The Neon Judgement,
Mad Mike,
Scion,
Spoonie Gee,
Accadde A,
MC5,
Cheater Slicks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
In Retrospect,
Lyres,
Barbara Tucker,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New Order,
Todd Terry,
Mark Hollis,
The Cowsills,
The Wake,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soft Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
Camouflage,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Albert Ayler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fall,
Derrick Morgan,
Ossler,
Drexciya,
Nick Fraelich,
Morten Harket,
Desert Stars,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.