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 Tonga and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Slits to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Stetsasonic,
Buzzcocks,
Spandau Ballet,
Ohio Players,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Pus,
Peter & Gordon,
Radiohead,
Kerri Chandler,
China Crisis,
Cybotron,
Hardrive,
The Grass Roots,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Five Americans,
Deadbeat,
The Smoke,
The Cure,
Wasted Youth,
The Raincoats,
Livin' Joy,
Soulsonic Force,
Inner City,
Piero Umiliani,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Leaves,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Knickerbockers,
Little Man,
The Doors,
Depeche Mode,
Visage,
MDC,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Techniques,
Jacques Brel,
The Index,
In Retrospect,
Derrick Morgan,
Harmonia,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Talk Talk,
Aural Exciters,
Sugar Minott,
The New Christs,
The Saints,
H. Thieme,
Brass Construction,
David Bowie,
Barbara Tucker,
The American Breed,
Erasure,
Japan,
Robert Görl,
Ten City,
Funkadelic,
The Gap Band,
Blake Baxter,
Grey Daturas,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.