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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Winnipeg.
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 Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Reuben Wilson to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare,
Procol Harum,
Kaleidoscope,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scrapy,
Ultravox,
Niagra,
Qualms,
The Fire Engines,
Unwound,
Buzzcocks,
The Buckinghams,
The Mojo Men,
Heaven 17,
Arthur Verocai,
The Wake,
Lightning Bolt,
Blake Baxter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Boogie Down Productions,
DJ Style,
Underground Resistance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Misunderstood,
Kas Product,
Cameo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Moody Blues,
Chrome,
Dual Sessions,
Pole,
Donald Byrd,
Aural Exciters,
X-101,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MC5,
Pussy Galore,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gap Band,
Stetsasonic,
Moebius,
Alphaville,
The Vogues,
Barry Ungar,
The Saints,
Wolf Eyes,
Tim Buckley,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Cale,
Sam Rivers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vladislav Delay,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ludus,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Sonics,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.