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 Egypt and from Lyon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Khruangbin to the funk 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joensuu 1685,
Pierre Henry,
The Monochrome Set,
Angry Samoans,
Young Marble Giants,
Electric Prunes,
a-ha,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Interpol,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
Swell Maps,
Eric Copeland,
Barbara Tucker,
Theoretical Girls,
Mad Mike,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Lydon,
Amon Düül,
Alton Ellis,
The Real Kids,
Patti Smith,
Ossler,
Ohio Players,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scott Walker,
Jeff Mills,
Lou Christie,
Intrusion,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Erykah Badu,
Nico,
Rosa Yemen,
New Age Steppers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joe Finger,
Sparks,
The Fall,
The Fuzztones,
Sonic Youth,
DJ Sneak,
Warsaw,
AZ,
Grey Daturas,
Masters at Work,
Crime,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deadbeat,
Make Up,
Sällskapet,
Nick Fraelich,
the Swans,
Jawbox,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Residents,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Sherman,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.