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 Sri Lanka and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Judy Mowatt to the grunge 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television Personalities,
K-Klass,
Radio Birdman,
Joensuu 1685,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Slits,
Mission of Burma,
The Young Rascals,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Warsaw,
Talk Talk,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeff Mills,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Five Americans,
Magma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Los Fastidios,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jeru the Damaja,
Blake Baxter,
Desert Stars,
Henry Cow,
Alison Limerick,
Man Parrish,
The Toasters,
Eve St. Jones,
Hot Snakes,
Tres Demented,
Terrestrial Tones,
Severed Heads,
Arcadia,
Ossler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Icehouse,
Pere Ubu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lindisfarne,
Soft Machine,
Quantec,
Ornette Coleman,
Main Source,
Bill Wells,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pretty Things,
Scion,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eli Mardock,
JFA,
Intrusion,
Connie Case,
Cameo,
The Sound,
Goldenarms,
The Skatalites,
Stetsasonic,
The Music Machine,
Popol Vuh,
Jacob Miller,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.