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 Slovenia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Malaria! to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Heaven 17,
Lucky Dragons,
Deepchord,
La Düsseldorf,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barry Ungar,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Star Department,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang of Four,
Graham Central Station,
Hardrive,
The Saints,
UT,
Adolescents,
T.S.O.L.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dave Gahan,
Q65,
Roxette,
Organ,
Kerri Chandler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
E-Dancer,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Neon Judgement,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Idris Muhammad,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Raincoats,
Yellowson,
Angry Samoans,
Dennis Brown,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fela Kuti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The United States of America,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
B.T. Express,
Skaos,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Johnny Clarke,
Tim Buckley,
Henry Cow,
A Certain Ratio,
Smog,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Con Funk Shun,
X-Ray Spex,
The Young Rascals,
Erykah Badu,
One Last Wish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pulsallama,
Crime,
Qualms,
Mark Hollis,
Jawbox,
Moss Icon,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.