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 Burundi and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the punk 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Laurel Aitken,
Andrew Hill,
Desert Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
The Standells,
Hoover,
John Coltrane,
The Buckinghams,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minutemen,
Pole,
Nick Fraelich,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Chris & Cosey,
Ludus,
Shoche,
Cameo,
The Pretty Things,
Slick Rick,
Sixth Finger,
Dead Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
Schoolly D,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sparks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crooked Eye,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bronski Beat,
Jawbox,
Ponytail,
John Lydon,
Tom Boy,
Qualms,
Nils Olav,
Soft Cell,
Visage,
X-101,
Radiohead,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cowsills,
Black Bananas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
The United States of America,
Blossom Toes,
Soul II Soul,
Gang of Four,
The Offenders,
B.T. Express,
Y Pants,
Panda Bear,
Pagans,
Pylon,
Mr. Review,
June of 44,
EPMD,
Q and Not U,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.