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 Ukraine and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Zero Boys to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Womack. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joyce Sims,
Rapeman,
Sister Nancy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Soft Machine,
Lakeside,
Aural Exciters,
Al Stewart,
Con Funk Shun,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harpers Bizarre,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Andrew Hill,
Lungfish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
Young Marble Giants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Donny Hathaway,
The Doors,
Gang of Four,
Spoonie Gee,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-102,
Bobby Sherman,
The United States of America,
Make Up,
Tropical Tobacco,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cowsills,
the Normal,
Main Source,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aaron Thompson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Agent Orange,
Eve St. Jones,
Terrestrial Tones,
Peter and Kerry,
The Sonics,
The Durutti Column,
FM Einheit,
Todd Terry,
Bobby Womack,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rekid,
Ohio Players,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bill Near,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tomorrow,
Suburban Knight,
Jacob Miller,
June of 44,
The Invisible,
R.M.O.,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.