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 Czech Republic and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 Derrick May to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Youth Brigade,
The Last Poets,
Lindisfarne,
The United States of America,
Newcleus,
Magma,
The Neon Judgement,
Niagra,
Nico,
ABBA,
The Litter,
Rites of Spring,
Don Cherry,
The Modern Lovers,
Bronski Beat,
Spandau Ballet,
Laurel Aitken,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Surgeon,
Maleditus Sound,
Zapp,
Ice-T,
The Trojans,
The Remains,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Doors,
Albert Ayler,
Outsiders,
The Searchers,
Alice Coltrane,
Leonard Cohen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lungfish,
Nils Olav,
Joensuu 1685,
Robert Hood,
The Slits,
La Düsseldorf,
Saccharine Trust,
Matthew Halsall,
Arthur Verocai,
Depeche Mode,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fat Boys,
The Human League,
Neil Young,
a-ha,
Lakeside,
Marcia Griffiths,
Whodini,
Funkadelic,
D'Angelo,
China Crisis,
Slave,
Young Marble Giants,
Lalann,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jesper Dahlback,
Animal Collective,
Scrapy,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.