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 Cambodia and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 Grandmaster Flash to the crunk 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Ken Boothe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masters at Work,
Quando Quango,
Grey Daturas,
Grauzone,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deepchord,
Suicide,
Warren Ellis,
The Searchers,
T. Rex,
Tomorrow,
Pierre Henry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scientists,
FM Einheit,
Young Marble Giants,
Livin' Joy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brick,
Bobby Sherman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Associates,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Whodini,
Mad Mike,
Yellowson,
Sixth Finger,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fall,
Joy Division,
Liliput,
Popol Vuh,
Black Pus,
X-101,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Althea and Donna,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bad Manners,
Donald Byrd,
Zapp,
Stetsasonic,
T.S.O.L.,
Siglo XX,
The Leaves,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eric Copeland,
Unrelated Segments,
Lebanon Hanover,
Reagan Youth,
Los Fastidios,
Au Pairs,
Harmonia,
Jandek,
Sugar Minott,
Swans,
ABBA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blossom Toes,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.