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 Tanzania and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Terry Callier to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Banda Bassotti,
Hasil Adkins,
The Selecter,
Monolake,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Suburban Knight,
Brass Construction,
Flamin' Groovies,
Chrome,
Amazonics,
R.M.O.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Skriet,
Public Enemy,
Rekid,
The Grass Roots,
Fatback Band,
The Moody Blues,
Flash Fearless,
Jeru the Damaja,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Negative Approach,
Brand Nubian,
Cal Tjader,
Scratch Acid,
Pantytec,
Cecil Taylor,
Albert Ayler,
The Busters,
June of 44,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alison Limerick,
The Doobie Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
Groovy Waters,
Moss Icon,
Lou Reed,
The Flesh Eaters,
PIL,
Nas,
Matthew Halsall,
Reuben Wilson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neu!,
Joe Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Danielle Patucci,
Masters at Work,
Minutemen,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Model 500,
David McCallum,
Sex Pistols,
Connie Case,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rapeman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.