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 Eritrea and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Gastr Del Sol to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator 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 oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maleditus Sound,
the Normal,
Brand Nubian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mission of Burma,
Faust,
The Mojo Men,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mars,
Oneida,
This Heat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang Green,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kenny Larkin,
Chrome,
The Velvet Underground,
Pussy Galore,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eurythmics,
The Tremeloes,
Darondo,
The Electric Prunes,
F. McDonald,
Suicide,
The Fuzztones,
Michelle Simonal,
Buzzcocks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
World's Most,
Max Romeo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Don Cherry,
Slave,
Wings,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slits,
Monolake,
Soul II Soul,
Tomorrow,
U.S. Maple,
The Shadows of Knight,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lindisfarne,
Grauzone,
Dark Day,
The Residents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kurtis Blow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Letta Mbulu,
The Count Five,
The Offenders,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wire,
The Grass Roots,
Byron Stingily,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.