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 Australia 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 X-102 to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
The Birthday Party,
Procol Harum,
Masters at Work,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Green,
Skriet,
Monks,
Ronnie Foster,
T. Rex,
David Axelrod,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Pop Group,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lyres,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crispy Ambulance,
Porter Ricks,
Suicide,
Unwound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Erasure,
Camberwell Now,
Al Stewart,
Radiopuhelimet,
Reuben Wilson,
Barrington Levy,
Marine Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lalann,
Black Moon,
These Immortal Souls,
Pole,
JFA,
Sällskapet,
Grauzone,
Khruangbin,
Erykah Badu,
Glenn Branca,
The Move,
Guru Guru,
Technova,
Ponytail,
Peter and Kerry,
Fela Kuti,
One Last Wish,
Theoretical Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Faust,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Reed,
Rod Modell,
Sister Nancy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stetsasonic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Seeds,
Y Pants,
Interpol,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.