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 Andorra and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Kerri Chandler,
Joensuu 1685,
Radiohead,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Judy Mowatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Panda Bear,
Make Up,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Human League,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tropical Tobacco,
Todd Terry,
Desert Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Rekid,
The Tremeloes,
Mars,
Grey Daturas,
Quadrant,
Prince Buster,
The Gun Club,
Freddie Wadling,
Matthew Bourne,
Cybotron,
Susan Cadogan,
John Holt,
The Divine Comedy,
Shuggie Otis,
The Velvet Underground,
Andrew Hill,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cheater Slicks,
Bauhaus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
CMW,
Carl Craig,
Ultra Naté,
The Gories,
Roxy Music,
Monks,
Robert Wyatt,
Index,
Supertramp,
kango's stein massive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Absolute Body Control,
Rapeman,
Stetsasonic,
The New Christs,
A Certain Ratio,
Oblivians,
Mission of Burma,
The Cowsills,
The Associates,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oneida,
The Smoke,
Patti Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Dawn Penn,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.