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 Somalia and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bootsy Collins to the crunk 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Faust,
PIL,
Jacob Miller,
Swans,
Malaria!,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sugar Minott,
The Beau Brummels,
Oneida,
Slick Rick,
Reagan Youth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeff Mills,
Pulsallama,
The Residents,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ohio Players,
The Cramps,
Dark Day,
Tres Demented,
Drexciya,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Byron Stingily,
Eurythmics,
Ten City,
Spoonie Gee,
Radiopuhelimet,
Masters at Work,
Howard Jones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Young Marble Giants,
Gang of Four,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gun Club,
Shuggie Otis,
The Barracudas,
Q and Not U,
The Neon Judgement,
Parry Music,
MDC,
Pagans,
Darondo,
Letta Mbulu,
DJ Style,
Simply Red,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Unrelated Segments,
The Zeros,
Whodini,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Swell Maps,
The Mummies,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Last Poets,
The Index,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.