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 Turkmenistan and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
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 The Pretty Things to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Can,
David Axelrod,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bush Tetras,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Christie,
Young Marble Giants,
Symarip,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Interpol,
Basic Channel,
Agent Orange,
Pole,
ABBA,
Black Flag,
Bobby Byrd,
Malaria!,
Aural Exciters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yusef Lateef,
Charles Mingus,
Jandek,
The Music Machine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harry Pussy,
Bluetip,
Kayak,
Neu!,
Hoover,
Intrusion,
The J.B.'s,
The Martian,
Simply Red,
Slave,
Brass Construction,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eden Ahbez,
David Bowie,
Scion,
The Standells,
Anakelly,
Television Personalities,
The Blues Magoos,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marmalade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Popol Vuh,
The Names,
Shuggie Otis,
Public Enemy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Human League,
CMW,
Roy Ayers,
L. Decosne,
Mo-Dettes,
David McCallum,
Soft Machine,
The Smiths,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.