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 Japan and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Misunderstood to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Byrd,
The Smoke,
Parry Music,
Mission of Burma,
MDC,
Roy Ayers,
Jandek,
Ten City,
John Coltrane,
Arthur Verocai,
Kayak,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kenny Larkin,
Blossom Toes,
Roxette,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Invisible,
Theoretical Girls,
Aswad,
Monks,
Stiv Bators,
Colin Newman,
Urselle,
Sound Behaviour,
Roxy Music,
Prince Buster,
Sexual Harrassment,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Monks,
One Last Wish,
The Buckinghams,
Pere Ubu,
Eric Copeland,
Sex Pistols,
Eddi Front,
Index,
Ken Boothe,
cv313,
Joe Finger,
Vainqueur,
Darondo,
Robert Hood,
Joe Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Skarface,
Absolute Body Control,
David Bowie,
Altered Images,
Dark Day,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sight & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Mark Hollis,
The Birthday Party,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Michelle Simonal,
KRS-One,
Eric Dolphy,
Monolake,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.