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 Hungary and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Dirtbombs to the dance 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a spring reverb 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 mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
The Raincoats,
Jeff Mills,
The Move,
Reagan Youth,
The Sound,
Tubeway Army,
Moebius,
Barry Ungar,
FM Einheit,
Accadde A,
Delta 5,
Ponytail,
Thee Headcoats,
Crispian St. Peters,
Index,
Dennis Brown,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pylon,
Adolescents,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pantytec,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scientists,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Music Machine,
Bill Near,
EPMD,
Al Stewart,
Piero Umiliani,
Au Pairs,
Swans,
Crime,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Sheep,
Freddie Wadling,
K-Klass,
MC5,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jandek,
B.T. Express,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bill Wells,
Minny Pops,
Severed Heads,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camouflage,
Franke,
The Gap Band,
Ohio Players,
Lalo Schifrin,
LL Cool J,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bob Dylan,
Black Moon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grauzone,
Anthony Braxton,
Ludus,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.