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 Colombia 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Television Personalities to the techno 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Absolute Body Control,
The Moleskins,
The Kinks,
Josef K,
Black Bananas,
Amon Düül,
Skarface,
Rod Modell,
June Days,
Prince Buster,
Wally Richardson,
Porter Ricks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Banda Bassotti,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gabor Szabo,
Popol Vuh,
Y Pants,
the Slits,
Agent Orange,
Radiohead,
Rites of Spring,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultra Naté,
Negative Approach,
Urselle,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Vogues,
Talk Talk,
Mandrill,
Section 25,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Glenn Branca,
The Cowsills,
Gichy Dan,
K-Klass,
Make Up,
Sarah Menescal,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed,
The Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nas,
Adolescents,
The Evens,
Spandau Ballet,
John Lydon,
Lalann,
Ronnie Foster,
Wire,
Anakelly,
Derrick May,
Au Pairs,
Chrome,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cymande,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.