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 Congo and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mad Mike to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Black Moon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lightning Bolt,
Camouflage,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Christie,
Alice Coltrane,
Eddi Front,
Donald Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cramps,
Khruangbin,
John Cale,
Gabor Szabo,
Monks,
D'Angelo,
The Standells,
Judy Mowatt,
Chris & Cosey,
Con Funk Shun,
Letta Mbulu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Slackers,
Wings,
Popol Vuh,
Second Layer,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brick,
The Associates,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
L. Decosne,
Iggy Pop,
Talk Talk,
Fear,
Shoche,
Man Parrish,
Liliput,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blake Baxter,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Johnny Clarke,
The Litter,
Barry Ungar,
Sam Rivers,
The Real Kids,
Soft Cell,
The Evens,
Main Source,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bush Tetras,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Circle Jerks,
The Saints,
Scan 7,
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Scratch Acid,
Bobbi Humphrey,
JFA,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.