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 Bahamas 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron 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 The Count Five to the punk 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Niagra,
Morten Harket,
Fluxion,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Delta 5,
Terrestrial Tones,
Monks,
Juan Atkins,
The Birthday Party,
Pet Shop Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mo-Dettes,
The Star Department,
Infiniti,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Man Parrish,
Monolake,
These Immortal Souls,
A Certain Ratio,
Minny Pops,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Susan Cadogan,
Au Pairs,
L. Decosne,
Cymande,
Flipper,
Spandau Ballet,
The Selecter,
The American Breed,
LL Cool J,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Jeff Mills,
Pylon,
UT,
Dennis Brown,
Stockholm Monsters,
Whodini,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Agent Orange,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Gun Club,
The Martian,
The Busters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Toni Rubio,
Zapp,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Move,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hardrive,
Massinfluence,
Cameo,
KRS-One,
Sound Behaviour,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.