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 Sierra Leone and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Holger Czukay 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 Anakelly to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gerry Rafferty,
The American Breed,
Jandek,
Amon Düül,
June Days,
Khruangbin,
Quadrant,
Nick Fraelich,
Faust,
Ultra Naté,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Selecter,
The Skatalites,
the Association,
Quantec,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Second Layer,
Charles Mingus,
Harmonia,
Sandy B,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Visage,
Bizarre Inc.,
Albert Ayler,
David Axelrod,
Sight & Sound,
Boredoms,
the Normal,
F. McDonald,
The Kinks,
Idris Muhammad,
Kurtis Blow,
Alphaville,
The Names,
Slick Rick,
The Detroit Cobras,
Suicide,
The Raincoats,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ponytail,
Skaos,
Aloha Tigers,
Ludus,
The United States of America,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wire,
The Misunderstood,
The Slits,
Nik Kershaw,
Pylon,
Shoche,
Jesper Dahlback,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fortunes,
Chrome,
LL Cool J,
ABC,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.