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 Mali and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bootsy Collins to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Marine Girls,
The Busters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Albert Ayler,
Neil Young,
Index,
Dual Sessions,
The Wake,
The Moody Blues,
Patti Smith,
Arab on Radar,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pet Shop Boys,
Suicide,
the Sonics,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amon Düül,
John Coltrane,
Kayak,
Tropical Tobacco,
Unrelated Segments,
Bush Tetras,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Audionom,
Mars,
PIL,
Judy Mowatt,
Young Marble Giants,
Marvin Gaye,
The Doors,
Spoonie Gee,
Alphaville,
ABBA,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-101,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Normal,
Brand Nubian,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Steve Hackett,
Pierre Henry,
The Seeds,
The Durutti Column,
Rapeman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Davy DMX,
Fat Boys,
H. Thieme,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Moon,
Drexciya,
Mo-Dettes,
The Five Americans,
Kaleidoscope,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs,
Fluxion,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crash Course in Science,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.