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 Uzbekistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum 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 Throbbing Gristle to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Womack,
Amon Düül II,
T. Rex,
Johnny Osbourne,
X-102,
Television Personalities,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Green,
The Residents,
Blake Baxter,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobbi Humphrey,
48th St. Collective,
The Names,
Main Source,
Panda Bear,
One Last Wish,
The Young Rascals,
Camberwell Now,
Liliput,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Severed Heads,
Patti Smith,
Moebius,
The Dirtbombs,
Grauzone,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dead C,
Cal Tjader,
Lower 48,
The Velvet Underground,
Tom Boy,
The Trojans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Iggy Pop,
Ultimate Spinach,
Unrelated Segments,
ABBA,
Theoretical Girls,
The Slackers,
Fatback Band,
Blossom Toes,
The Cowsills,
The Gun Club,
Supertramp,
Dawn Penn,
The Leaves,
Eric Dolphy,
Connie Case,
John Lydon,
Shoche,
Lungfish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ludus,
Faust,
The Buckinghams,
Brick,
Brothers Johnson,
Sparks,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.