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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Bananas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Birthday Party,
Bobby Sherman,
Marmalade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Excepter,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Glenn Branca,
The Cowsills,
E-Dancer,
Rites of Spring,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Minny Pops,
Aaron Thompson,
Negative Approach,
Blancmange,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joy Division,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Human League,
Essential Logic,
Second Layer,
The Victims,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Gap Band,
Soulsonic Force,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Siglo XX,
Patti Smith,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun City Girls,
Drexciya,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Young Marble Giants,
The Last Poets,
The Zeros,
The Gories,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Byrd,
Scratch Acid,
The Star Department,
Peter and Kerry,
The Move,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kenny Larkin,
Severed Heads,
Outsiders,
Yazoo,
Skriet,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Count Five,
Todd Terry,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.