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 Indonesia and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Khruangbin to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Altered Images,
X-Ray Spex,
Franke,
Delta 5,
Model 500,
Pere Ubu,
Los Fastidios,
B.T. Express,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roy Ayers,
Al Stewart,
Intrusion,
Carl Craig,
Groovy Waters,
Mo-Dettes,
Malaria!,
Dave Gahan,
Trumans Water,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mantronix,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sex Pistols,
Derrick Morgan,
The Dead C,
Ossler,
Bill Wells,
Vainqueur,
La Düsseldorf,
Iggy Pop,
The Toasters,
Piero Umiliani,
Depeche Mode,
Warren Ellis,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mojo Men,
PIL,
Roger Hodgson,
The Birthday Party,
The Black Dice,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Slits,
Das Ding,
The Real Kids,
Stockholm Monsters,
Steve Hackett,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Bar-Kays,
Youth Brigade,
The Fugs,
Crime,
The Names,
Ash Ra Tempel,
T.S.O.L.,
Joy Division,
Desert Stars,
Tommy Roe,
The Monks,
The Young Rascals,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.