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 Guinea and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Minor Threat,
The Monks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Erasure,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sandy B,
Rotary Connection,
Public Enemy,
Sonic Youth,
Amazonics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jawbox,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ice-T,
Suburban Knight,
Section 25,
Visage,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jesper Dahlback,
JFA,
Black Bananas,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
Maleditus Sound,
Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
Little Man,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Moon,
Franke,
The Residents,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eddi Front,
Niagra,
Fatback Band,
Prince Buster,
Mission of Burma,
Arthur Verocai,
DJ Style,
The Index,
The Grass Roots,
Unwound,
Henry Cow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Popol Vuh,
The Count Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roy Ayers,
Matthew Bourne,
Spandau Ballet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang of Four,
Isaac Hayes,
Pierre Henry,
Sun City Girls,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.