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 East Timor and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Vladislav Delay to the disco 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Darondo,
Underground Resistance,
The Cramps,
Tommy Roe,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ohio Players,
The Happenings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blossom Toes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crime,
Agent Orange,
Ponytail,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Radiohead,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rufus Thomas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Litter,
Oblivians,
Minnie Riperton,
The Saints,
PIL,
Buzzcocks,
Los Fastidios,
Model 500,
Dark Day,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Das Ding,
James White and The Blacks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Urselle,
The Grass Roots,
Pussy Galore,
Eric B and Rakim,
Y Pants,
The Star Department,
Icehouse,
Subhumans,
Rod Modell,
the Slits,
Unrelated Segments,
Pole,
Animal Collective,
Eve St. Jones,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fuzztones,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Busters,
Electric Prunes,
The Sound,
The Walker Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
The Gories,
Black Pus,
Nas,
Colin Newman,
Roxette,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.