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 Dominican Republic and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Deepchord to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
PIL,
X-102,
Maurizio,
Country Teasers,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Motions,
The Walker Brothers,
Faust,
Pole,
Pere Ubu,
Sparks,
Rakim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Derrick Morgan,
Eric Dolphy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Clear Light,
Jacques Brel,
Cameo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nils Olav,
The Fuzztones,
Suburban Knight,
Bronski Beat,
Severed Heads,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wings,
L. Decosne,
Stetsasonic,
Peter and Kerry,
Saccharine Trust,
Shoche,
Faraquet,
Panda Bear,
Thompson Twins,
Mr. Review,
The Misunderstood,
Sandy B,
Outsiders,
The Trojans,
OOIOO,
Funkadelic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cramps,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
The Cure,
the Sonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cheater Slicks,
ABC,
Arthur Verocai,
Lungfish,
Minor Threat,
Stiv Bators,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Victims,
Gong,
Scion,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.