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 Lyon.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Sound Behaviour to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Y Pants,
Terry Callier,
Alison Limerick,
Eurythmics,
Sister Nancy,
Cluster,
Talk Talk,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Offenders,
The Move,
The Monks,
The Skatalites,
Rosa Yemen,
Henry Cow,
Monolake,
Nirvana,
The Angels of Light,
Intrusion,
Fluxion,
Unrelated Segments,
Brick,
K-Klass,
Franke,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Sneak,
Danielle Patucci,
Slave,
The Raincoats,
Josef K,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Organ,
Pantaleimon,
The Selecter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Cell,
Joensuu 1685,
Byron Stingily,
the Sonics,
Absolute Body Control,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Remains,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ronnie Foster,
The Durutti Column,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Television,
Inner City,
Moss Icon,
Electric Prunes,
OOIOO,
Black Moon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Faraquet,
Black Flag,
Alphaville,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joey Negro,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.