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 Macedonia and from London.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the crunk 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Bob Dylan,
The Saints,
Ultra Naté,
Loose Ends,
The Walker Brothers,
Slick Rick,
Symarip,
Porter Ricks,
Jawbox,
Graham Central Station,
The Durutti Column,
Agent Orange,
Kevin Saunderson,
New Order,
The Fugs,
Charles Mingus,
James White and The Blacks,
Matthew Halsall,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stetsasonic,
Desert Stars,
June of 44,
Scion,
Jacques Brel,
X-102,
Al Stewart,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Starr,
Public Enemy,
Rapeman,
The Names,
Thee Headcoats,
Monolake,
Nils Olav,
Intrusion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pierre Henry,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Moody Blues,
Easy Going,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ituana,
Pere Ubu,
Das Ding,
Blake Baxter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Misunderstood,
Isaac Hayes,
cv313,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eli Mardock,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
T. Rex,
Patti Smith,
Dennis Brown,
Liliput,
The Smoke,
Sarah Menescal,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.