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 Namibia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Sun Ra to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Quando Quango,
Infiniti,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aaron Thompson,
Jeff Mills,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yazoo,
Circle Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
Avey Tare,
The Five Americans,
Monks,
Warren Ellis,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Womack,
David McCallum,
Mantronix,
The J.B.'s,
Suicide,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Underground Resistance,
Black Moon,
Slave,
Jimmy McGriff,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Trumans Water,
Eden Ahbez,
the Swans,
K-Klass,
Jeru the Damaja,
New Order,
Dorothy Ashby,
Agent Orange,
Harmonia,
Marine Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Section 25,
Andrew Hill,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marvin Gaye,
Albert Ayler,
Todd Terry,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Toasters,
Chris Corsano,
T. Rex,
Panda Bear,
Arcadia,
Agitation Free,
The Motions,
MDC,
The Birthday Party,
FM Einheit,
OOIOO,
Simply Red,
Barrington Levy,
Average White Band,
Motorama,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ice-T,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.