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 Netherlands and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Michael McDonald 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the funk 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 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 Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Average White Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fugs,
Howard Jones,
Pierre Henry,
Roy Ayers,
48th St. Collective,
Crooked Eye,
Gang Starr,
Model 500,
Albert Ayler,
Sugar Minott,
Crispy Ambulance,
Technova,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Evens,
Faraquet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New York Dolls,
Popol Vuh,
Pagans,
Visage,
The Wake,
Marc Almond,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
T. Rex,
the Soft Cell,
F. McDonald,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alison Limerick,
The Raincoats,
Henry Cow,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roxette,
James White and The Blacks,
Camouflage,
Scott Walker,
Bill Wells,
Cameo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gories,
Minnie Riperton,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thee Headcoats,
Clear Light,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eric B and Rakim,
In Retrospect,
The Neon Judgement,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
ABC,
Cecil Taylor,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DNA,
Black Bananas,
Theoretical Girls,
Pylon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Count Five,
Swell Maps,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.