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 Uruguay and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the electroclash 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Outsiders,
The Durutti Column,
Fugazi,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jacob Miller,
Lightning Bolt,
Hot Snakes,
Steve Hackett,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pussy Galore,
The Smoke,
Avey Tare,
John Coltrane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
FM Einheit,
New Order,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hasil Adkins,
Fela Kuti,
Gastr Del Sol,
Q65,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Simply Red,
The Pretty Things,
James White and The Blacks,
Matthew Bourne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hashim,
the Bar-Kays,
Max Romeo,
Gichy Dan,
Dennis Brown,
Soul II Soul,
Maleditus Sound,
Arab on Radar,
Howard Jones,
Sparks,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tres Demented,
Oblivians,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Saccharine Trust,
The Offenders,
Khruangbin,
Sex Pistols,
Blancmange,
Magazine,
Sixth Finger,
The Stooges,
Todd Terry,
Wolf Eyes,
Brass Construction,
The Young Rascals,
Morten Harket,
Jawbox,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.